Resident Evil
by Brin
Summary: Sequel to HNA. The Coming is just around the corner, and Max, along with some new and old friends and allies of course, is the only one who can stop it.
1. Requiem for Dreams

Legal Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this story that appear in the hit syndicated TV show, Dark Angel, owned and created by James Cameron. I do, however, own any and all original characters that appear in this work of fan fiction.

Rating Disclaimer: **PG –13 **I suspect this story will be a bit gory, have a bit of swearing, and several adult themes. However, I will try to keep these at a minimum.

Summary: Just when you thought it was all over… from the extremely messed-up mind of moi comes the _Dark Angel_ version of _Resident Evil_. The Familiars own a secret underground lab to develop their armory, owned and operated by the unsuspecting government. When the runes indicate that the Coming is not far in the future, Max and Co., along with some new friends of course, must journey down into the depths of The Temple, as the research facility is called, and destroy the source of the virus. The only problem… getting there.

A/N: Big fat thank you to _Hearns_, who is my muse ^_^

Resident Evil 

By

Brin

**"Evil is just a word. Reality is much worse."** – Resident Evil cover

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

LAST TIME:

_"No, you_ _don't understand! Diana…_ _her date… he's going to kidnap her! I know he is! I've got to warn her!"_

_-------------_

_"Logan said there is a possibility of multiple bloodlines of Familiars. That kid with mind powers, for instance. I bet he was part of some special line, and so is this guy… the only question is why not use them earlier?"_

_There was a long silence, which was then broken by Alec saying, "Because they were saving them."_

_"For what?"_

_"For the final assault."_

_-------------_

_"Now think about it… if you wanted your kid to never have to face a gym, who would you pick to have a kid with?"_

_"Someone athletic," whispered Max, appalled. "So… they're going to…"_

"Impregnate the females or harvest their eggs, and I assume they will harvest sperm from the males to use in several Familiar females just because they can. It's sick, but it's our best guess about what they'll do to their victims…"

_-------------_

_"Alec… I think_ _I'm pregnant."_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Chapter ****1: ****Requiem ****for ****Dreams**

Hours passed like small eternities. The television was kept on at all times, a small source of hope for more helpful information to present itself, but to no avail. All that was reported was repeated news that seemed to be scripted from station to station.

"…more recently, semi-professional boxing legend Diana Guzman was kidnapped from her apartment in Seattle. Witnesses say there were two people who tried to save the badly beaten boxer, but to no avail. The witnesses are also saying that the attacker seemed to exhibit superhuman strength. Rumor has it that the transgenics themselves are behind these attacks, though Transgen spokespeople will neither confirm nor deny the allegations…"

"…police are on the search for a man of about six-foot-three, with blonde hair and blue eyes…"

"…the government has little hope to find the victims alive…"

"…some officials are saying it will be close to impossible to even find the kidnapped individuals…"

"…all across the nation, people are coming to the aid of their favorite sports stars…"

"…for the ones that are already kidnapped; out there, somewhere… Godspeed."

The house was buzzing with tense energy as people came in and out, asking questions, writing stuff down, and offering condolences. Outside, the snow flurry quickly changed into a blizzard as if Mother Nature herself was trying to bring the world to an end. As day succumbed to night, the visits grew less frequent and some visitors stayed, their cars stuck in the snow.

Jondy sat with Max on the living room couch, the older X5's arms wrapped protectively around Max's thin shoulders. "Don't worry. We won't let anything happen to you. Any of you." She looked up at Zack, who was leaning against the doorframe with a sympathetic look on his face. "Will we, Zack?"

"Not a chance, Maxie. You couldn't get rid of us if you tried," he said with a reassuring smile. They had come from their High Rise penthouse as soon as they heard the news and hadn't left for hours.

Max managed a appreciative grin, then sighed and her eyes dropped. "I feel like I'm waiting for them to come and get me…"

Jondy kissed Max on the temple. "You're perfectly safe. You _and_ the baby."

"The prophecy said that the baby is a reason for celebrating… but I feel more like dying; I feel like its my fault this thing is going into effect," whispered Max, her face growing haggard. "After Logan told us about the prophecy requiring me to be pregnant, we were careful, Jon…"

"Hey, hey!" Jondy interrupted with annoyance. "This is _not_ your fault. Look, haven't you seen all the movies? The prophecy makes stuff happen, but everything turns out perfect in the end. Believe me, this'll all be over soon… we might just see a few bumps in the road on the way."

"Bumps, huh? I was thinking more like blood-thirsty, malicious, single-minded warriors trained to take out all of humanity," snapped Max bitterly.

Jondy, understanding of her sister's agitation, simply rested her forehead against Max's and whispered, "Everything will be okay, honey. Everything is going to be just fine."

They looked up as the back door opened and Alec jumped in, followed by Pick.

"Hey guys," said Zack quietly. "Everything okay out there?"

"Yeah, right now," replied Alec, shaking the snow from his body and removing his frozen jacket.

"As far as we know," said Pick as he, too, brushed the snow off of himself. "But we can't be sure. If we're lucky, the windows might freeze, forcing them to break through. That'd ruin their element of surprise, but at the moment we don't have anything to reinforce the windows or doors."

"I bet you a thousand dollars they don't give a care," announced Max despairingly.

Alec looked at Jondy questioningly. She used her dolphin vocal chords to answer back in ultrasound:

{She thinks it's her fault that the prophecy is coming true.}

The male X5 frowned and replied, {Let me handle it.} He walked over to Max and put his hand on her shoulder, "Sweetheart, you wanna come upstairs? I'll give you a massage."

Max sighed and nodded, not saying a word.

Alec walked over and swept her up into her arms, planting a loving kiss on her lips before she could protest. "You need your rest."

The other transgenics watched as they disappeared into the master bedroom. When they had closed the door, Zack looked at Jondy and said, "Maybe we should turn in too?"

Jondy nods. "You kids play nice," she said to Pick and Eddie as they exited the room to the guest bedroom.

Eddie, who had been sitting on an armchair the entire time, looked at Pick, who was still standing next to the back door, and beckoned him over. A sly smile resting on his lips, he did as he was told. "Yes, ma'am?" he asked.

"Ever get that feeling that you're a totally useless piece of shit?" the anomaly said quietly.

Pick squeezed onto the armchair next to her, then pulled the young woman to his chest, his chin resting on her head. "All the time."

"Liar."

"I'm serious."

"When?"

"Let me think… when Dodd got his legs blown off… when Hank and Junky died… when you got beaten to a pulp… when I wasn't around when you and Diana really needed me…"

Eddie kissed him on the cheek. "I get it… but I still love you."

"Really? I love you too," he kissed her on the nose. "Now, it's off to bed. I have a sinking feeling that we're going to need as much sleep as we can get."

Eddie smiled devilishly and replied, "You know I'd get more sleep if…"

Pick shushed her with a kiss. "Don't you finish that sentence," he warned.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alec ran his hands up Max's back, kneading her shoulders with strong, controlled hands. "Stiff as a board."

Max shifted her head. "Can you really blame me?"

Nearly ignoring her question, Alec asked timidly, "We need to talk about…"

"The baby?" finished Max.

"Yeah."

Silence.

"Max?"

"Alec?"

"You're not talking."

Max sighed and rolled over. "I'm sore; it hurts to lay like that." She gingerly touched her chest.

"I did not need to now that, Max. Too much information," joked Alec in a weak attempt to lighten the situation. He lay down next to her and threw an arm over her slender shoulders. "Maxie, Jondy told me you think it's all your fault the prophecy is going into effect."

"When did she tell you that?"

"That doesn't matter. What matters, Maxie, is that you know that none of this is your fault. The eternal question is 'Why me', 'Why us,' but we'll never get an answer. Whatever is given to us… we take… and we like it." He kissed her on the forehead. "Do you need any more of me being mushy and philosophical or can I stop?"

Max laughed. "Fine, you can stop. I just… I just think I was getting used to the idea that maybe… _maybe… _we could have a peaceful life. No more bloodthirsty men in black helicopters, no evil clones… no cult trying to take over the world. I just wanna take all the bullshit we go through and plop it onto someone else's head.

"You know what my life reminds me of?" she continued, "It reminds me of a person sitting down to write a story about characters they like to torture – and they stick these characters into the damnedest situations just to see how many ways they can come up with to get the characters out of those situations."

Alec shook his head and laughed. "Us, characters in a story? We'd be made into a popular action TV series before that!"

"You never know. Maybe this prophecy is making itself up as it goes along!" She pointed to the latest set of runes on her ankle. "It's a conspiracy."

"No, the only conspiracy we need to deal with right now is the genetically-empowered cult loonies trying to take over the world, okay?" joked Alec. He put his hand on her lower stomach. "Now stop changing the subject."

Max drew in a sharp breath when his hand came into contact with her belly. "I'm so scared, Alec. I don't want our child to suffer because we don't have the sense to just let things be." She cuddled closer to him, her head resting on his shoulder. "This is real. This is now, and I know that before the day is over… it's all going to be ripped to pieces."

Alec kissed her lightly. "That child is part you, part me… it's going to be stubborn as hell." He paused as she began to chuckle. "Nothing's going to happen to it."

"You really think so?" She traced her finger down his bare chest.

"Don't make me spit out any more clichés than I have to. Zack, Krit, Pick, and Zane all say I'm getting too feminine," he replied with a smile. He then opened his mouth to say something more, but a loud THUMP was heard above them. They bolted upright and listened intently. There was no room over the master bedroom so that meant… 

Somebody was on the roof.

"Maybe it's just Santa Claus," whispered Max with false hope.

After a few agonizingly silent moments, there was the sound of footsteps. They moved slowly at first, then quickly across the roof, then stopped again. Several more seconds passed, then there was a dull THUD, farther than the first.

"They're on the second floor," said Alec quietly.

They looked at each other and said in unison, "Eddie."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pick sat up when he heard the first sound, his hand going to the nightstand next to the bed and grabbing a hold of his .9 mm gun; his favorite. He looked at Eddie, who was staring at him questioningly while laying motionless beside him, and made several gestures to her. _Don't move. Play along._ He then lay back down, hiding the gun underneath the covers, and closed his eyes.

Almost unbearable seconds ticked by, and then a silhouette appeared outside Eddie's bedroom window. The X6 cracked open one eye and stifled what would have been an audible gulp. That was a _big_ shadow. He quickly resumed his feigned sleep as bulky, but silent hands did quick work of the window. The feel of the thick gun in his hand was slightly comforting, but he still felt fear stabbing at his heart.

There was a dull 'thump' as two booted feet hit the floor of the room, then silence for what quite possibly could have been several minutes. The intruder was obviously taking great care to make sure that the two transgenics were indeed asleep.

Pick, his arms wrapped around Eddie's waist, his body curled against her back, and his head turned slightly towards the pillow to hide any unwanted expressions that could appear on his face, felt his heart beating out of his chest. He was half-afraid that the intruder would hear it. With her back against his bare chest, the X6 could also feel his lover's heart also threatening to explode. His grip tightened on his gun.

Finally, just before Pick decided he could stand it no more, the sound of rustling cloth was heard. This was followed by the menacing noise of a gun's clip being opened.

The X6 was ready to spring, but he felt Eddie's grip tighten on his hand as it rested on her stomach. He froze for a few more seconds, then she released her hold, allowing him to move.

Without warning, Pick bolted upright and shot three bullets. They struck the intruder in the shoulder, chest, and knee. Spurts of blood went across the room. He toppled to the ground, but was by no means dead. In fact, as soon as he hit the ground, sinewy strands of pale skin began to weave themselves over the wound, disregarding the bullets. In a matter of seconds, he was healed again. He stood to his menacing height – at least seven-foot-two or so – and cracked his knuckles.

"Get down!" yelled the X6, protectively moving in front of Eddie as he fired a few more shots, hitting the prowler right in the chest every time. He stopped and waited, then gasped in alarm as the intruder stood, nearly ignoring his mutilated insides since, almost immediately after the wounds were dealt, they were healed again. Pick looked down at his gun. He wasn't sure if he had any bullets left.

"The Coming cannot be stopped!" yelled the intruder, picking up his gun and pointing it straight at the X6.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Max broke into a dead run up the stairs as she heard two simultaneous gunshots go off. She stumbled down the hall and nearly busted down Eddie's door. A yelp of horror left her lips as she spotted the blood covering the floor, and then she lifted her eyes to see a Familiar lying in the puddle of dark red liquid. There was a hole in his forehead that was about the size of a baseball and blood all over the rest of his body, but no more punctures to be seen.

"You're alright!" exclaimed Alec from the doorway.

Max looked over at Eddie and Pick, who were hugging each other. The X6 had a scrape on the side of his arm, and behind him there was a hole in the wall. The bullet had missed.

"Don't do that again!" Eddie was repeating between stifled sobs, her face white as a sheet.

"I'm sorry," Pick was replying again and again as he held her close, his cheek resting on top of her head.

"Shit," whispered Max, feeling her dinner swiftly rising north at the sight of so much blood. She turned and rushed out to the bathroom.

At this point, Jondy and Zack came up into the room.

"What happened?" asked Jondy, her eyes growing wide at the sight before her. "We heard the sounds and checked around the house. Everyone okay? Where's Max?"

"I think she's in the bathroom," said Alec before excusing himself to go after her.

Zack looked at Pick. "Good shot," he said nonchalantly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Max inwardly groaned as she yakked up what was left of her dinner, trying not to look into the toilet as she flushed it several times. The stench alone was enough to make her continue gagging even though there was nothing left in her stomach. She then leaned against the wall, her hand idly resting on her unsettled belly.

"Max?" said Alec quietly as he entered the room. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'll be fine in a minute," she replied, eyes squeezed shut.

He sat down next to the female X5 and put his arm around her shoulders. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Anything." He kissed her sweaty temple. "You pick."

Max laughed. "I guess I could say I'm mad at you for knocking me up… but why would I be mad?" Her eyes twinkled.

"Because there will be two of me running around, driving you insane," suggested Alec with a grin.

"Only the kid will drive me insane in different ways…" She kissed his cheek and wriggled her eyebrows pointedly.

Alec chuckled and helped her to her feet. "Alright. Now what do we do?"

Before Max could reply, a thunderous knock came from downstairs. The two X5s sprinted into Eddie's room where Jondy, Zack, Eddie, and Pick stood rigid.

"What was that?" whispered Alec to Zack.

"They're trying to break down the door," answered the older X5, wincing as the loud crash of someone hitting the front door came again. "My gun is down there." His Adam's apple bobbed.

"Yeah, mine too," said Alec. He looked at Pick questioningly, but the X6 just shook his head and showed him the empty clip. "Shit."

Jondy draped her arms around Max's shoulders apprehensively. It felt like they were waiting for a monster to come up the stairs and swallow them alive.

BOOM.

Behind them, Eddie was examining the roof outside her window carefully. It was covered in snow because the slope was barely steep at all. She anticipated the ground to be about twelve feet below where the roof ended. It wouldn't be hard to… She turned around, startled, as an particularly strident bang erupted through the air.

"Hey!" said the anomaly, getting Pick's attention.

Pick turned, saw her jerk a thumb at the open window, nodded, and grasped Zack by the shoulder. "We're getting out of here!" he announced.

Zack, caught off guard, nearly stumbled as the X6 dragged him over to the window by holding onto his shirt collar. "You first," insisted the X5, regaining his dignity.

"Max! Alec! Jondy!" called Eddie as she poked her head out the window. "Come on, hurry!" She signaled to the window wildly before flinging herself out and sliding on her butt down the icy roof to vanish over the side.

"Eddie?" shouted Pick. "You okay?"

"The coast is clear! Come on down!" she responded as quietly as possible.

Zack and Jondy went first, and right after they hit the ground they heard the awful sound of the front door crashing down. "Max! Alec! Hurry!" yelled Zack up at the dark window.

"It's now or never," whispered Alec to his wife, drawing her close to him. He could hear footsteps climbing the stairs. "On three. One. Two. Three!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zack moved out of the way as Alec and Max evenly hit the ground, arms around each other protectively. He walked over to a snow mound beside the side of the house and brushed off most of the fluffy whiteness to reveal a cellar door with a chain and padlock on it. He then looked at Alec questioningly.

"Do it," replied the younger X5 with slight hesitation.

His face tight with concentration, Zack walked over to the gate of the backyard fence and ripped the handle clear off. When he did, something silver broke loose and glittered in the night air before falling to the ground, making an imprint in the knee-deep snow. Zack picked it up and showed it to them. It was a key.

"I didn't know you were keeping things down there," commented Max, narrowing her eyes at the cellar door.

"You have no idea," returned Alec solemnly as Zack opened the lock and moved the chain aside with some difficulty, as it had been rusted and covered in ice.

They froze as a loud uproar could be heard above them, then, as if broken from a trance, they all began to move at once. Zack and Alec heaved open the door and in a matter of seconds they were all inside, the doors shutting aggressively behind them, leaving the transgenics in pitch blackness… Not that it mattered. Seeing perfectly through the dark, Alec ambled into the middle of the room, avoiding stepping in a bucket, and turned on the light because it seemed like the right thing to do. Even before he did, Max and Jondy let out a gasp of surprise.

"How _the hell_ did you do this?!" demanded Max, narrowing her eyes at the two X5 males.

The walls were covered with the kind of computers you only saw in Pre-Pulse sci-fi movies, with more than a few hundred buttons and numerous computer screens and just everything you could think of. _Logan_ would be jealous.

"Zack, send out a warning to base; tell 'em what's happened," said Alec in a voice full of authority. "Pick, activate the house."

Without a word, the two men did as they were told. Zack sat on one end of the room while Pick sat on the other.

"Activate the house…?" Jondy was rubbing her temples, taken aback. "What do you mean by that?"

"Watch," replied Alec, pointing to the screen Pick was looking at, which was larger than all the other ones.

The transgenics congregated behind the X6, who had put on a pair of headphones. He looked at the female transgenics and commanded, "Computer, on."

Immediately, the room lit up with intense fluorescent light. As this happened, images of the house appeared on the computer screen. They were from several different angles at various places. One was of the front door, another of the stairway, kitchen, upstairs hall, etc…

"Security cameras," whispered Eddie, and then it all began to come together.

Pick flipped a switch and opened the cover over a red button. In response, the computer stretched one of the camera angles – the angle watching the stairwell - to the entire screen. They could clearly see three Familiars trashing the house, looking for any evidence of where their Manticorian prey could have fled. The X6 touched the screen over the Familiars, placing a crosshair on them. Whenever they moved, the small crosshair moved with them. When that was done, he waited for the right moment and then… pressed the button.

Max, Eddie, and Jondy jerked their heads away the first moment they heard the sound of the rockets. They winced as the sound of screams of pain resonated through the room, didn't look at the river of blood that formed in their living area. The explosions happened simultaneously. None of them had a chance.

"They're all on their way," proclaimed Zack from across the room, breaking the moment of repulsion at what they were obligated to do to survive. "Brin, Zane, Krit, and Syl."

"They shouldn't be coming," remarked Max indignantly. "They have children to worry about."

"If you want to put it that way, then maybe you shouldn't come, either," countered Alec in total sincerity. "Because now you have a child to worry about, too."

Hating the fact that there was no practical way to argue with him, Max simply dropped the subject and returned her attention to the state-of-the-art murder machine in their cellar. "How come you didn't tell us girls about this? Is it a guy thing?" she asked impatiently.

"We decided to keep it secret because we never planned to use it," answered Zack, saving Alec from the wrath of his wife. "At least, we hoped we'd never use it. It would be pretty depressing for us to tell you that we had a last-minute defense against the cult loonies out to take over the world. We didn't want you to have a constant reminder of someone out to kill you."

"You think I don't already worry about it day and night, every waking and sleeping second? You think I don't scare myself with shadows across the bedroom wall and knocks on the door? You can't tell me to be afraid; I'm already there," said Max, her voice starting out as a yell then ebbing to less than a whisper. "Only now it's all turned to reality, and that's even worse than just dreaming about it."

They stared at her, unsure of what to say, then Alec uncertainly put an arm across her shoulders. "We know, Maxie… we know. Sorry."

This situation had the possibility for an open, tear-jerking conversation, but at that moment Pick jumped in alarm, returning his attention to the computer screen. "Uh oh, we got trouble," he announced, hitting keys and flipping switches. "Computer, lock down the facility."

In a monotone reminiscent of something you would hear on Star Trek, the computer replied in a reverberating voice: "Access code required."

"Access code 6-3-7-R-H-L-0-2-1," called Alec in a tone that Max was beginning to identify as his take-charge voice.

"Access granted. Lock down procedure awaiting confirmation."

Licking his lips tensely, Alec said quietly, "Now."

Outside, the windows shut and steel bars dropped down to reinforce them. The doors locked securely and were also reinforced with steel. The computer was too slow to shut the front door, however, and five Familiars walked inside, utterly ignorant to what was going on. The door locked behind them. They were trapped.

"Big Brother is watching you," whispered Pick to himself wryly. He looked up at Alec, who gave him a small nod.

"What are you going to do?" asked Eddie, rubbing her arms in a feeble attempt to rid herself of the feeling that something bad was going to happen.

"Nothing," said the X6, removing his headphones. "Absolutely nothing."

"You're going to let them… just… die?" asked Jondy, horrified. Nobody deserved that kind of death. "I'd rather have my brains blasted out."

"Don't worry; there is food and water in the kitchen. The house will automatically unlock itself in five days. I hope they know how to use the television," explained Alec with a rueful grin.

"What if they call for help?" asked Max, looking skeptical. "It's not that hard to call for a welder and be out right quick."

"Watch," replied Alec simply.

They turned to the screen as one of the Familiars pulled a cell phone from his jacket pocket. Pick unplugged his headphones and turned a little knob, raising the volume so that they could hear what was going on.

"What's the number?" barked the one with the cell phone.

One of his comrades replied, "555-9008."

The other one dialed it in, then put it to his ear. Immediately, static loud enough so that the people in the underground shelter could hear it, burst through the phone. With an unattractive curse on his lips, the Familiar slammed the phone shut and put it away. "They're jamming our frequency," he declared as he hurled the phone into the wall, shouting several more expletives.

"Impressive," commented Jondy.

Alec nodded. "Okay, now let's get out of here."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They waited in the bushes outside, not a movement on the entire street, until Brin drove up in a large van – probably stolen. If there was one thing the X5s couldn't leave behind it was their… _improvisation_ methods. She parked several houses down, turned off the lights, and got out. A gun glinted conspicuously in her left hand as she walked around to the back and acted like she was going to pull something out.

While she was doing this, the other transgenics slowly crept from their hiding places, avoiding the circles of the streetlights. They climbed into the back of the vehicle while Brin pretended she hadn't noticed; her back to them as she watched for an imaginary car. When they were all inside, she closed the doors and got back into the van with an ad-libbed mumble of forgetting something. She started up the vehicle and drove away, turning the corner just before several ominous black cars pulled up to the X5s' house.

The drive away was silent for at least ten minutes, then Alec spoke, "Can I make borrow someone's cell phone? Mine is back home." He glanced around sheepishly. "I need to make some long-distance phone calls…"

Brin tossed him Zane's cell phone over her shoulder, but said nothing.

Max curled her legs to her chest and placed her head on top of her knees. She gazed around at her comrades and sighed. They had been caught completely off-guard. Pick and Zack didn't even have shirts on. Eddie was barely decent in a pair of her lover's red plaid boxers and a white tank top. Jondy had on a pair of silk pants and a tight t-shirt. Eddie and Pick, who by far had spent the most time outside in the freezing snow, had crystals of ice on their faces and clothes that were rapidly melting. Max herself wasn't exactly dressed for the occasion in a pair of sweatpants and a tight t-shirt.

Her attention was then caught by Alec's voice as he began speaking into the phone:

"Hello? Billy! What's up, man?" Pause. "Yeah, it's, um, 494. Look, I'm in a bit of a jam and I was wondering…"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When they arrived at their destination – a newly rebuilt scientific lab in TC – they hurried inside and were met by several anomalies with electric blankets.

"Are you alright, ma'am?" asked one of them.

Max nodded and smiled thankfully as she accepted a blanket, then turned to Brin, "Hey, thanks."

"No problem," replied the Korean X5 with a bemused grin. After their honeymoon – which had included visits to France, Italy, Spain, Greece, and Iceland - she had moved back to Seattle to live with Zane some time ago. Ben was almost a year old by now, and his transgenic blood had increased his development significantly – he could just barely speak in full sentences.

"None of you are hurt, right?" queried an anomaly.

"Far as we know," answered Jondy, wrapping her blanket tightly around her.

"Look, I've got to go call Zane. He's out there somewhere with Ben," announced Brin before excusing herself to go wandering off to find a phone.

Max glanced around for Alec and saw him standing at the window, apparently waiting for something – or someone. Dragging her warm blanket across the floor, she went over and leaned against him. "Whatcha doing?"

"Waiting," he replied simply. "I called, um… a few friends. They live around town; never went far after the fire."

"_You_ have friends?" joked Max amusedly. "What kind of friends?"

"Well, friends a lot like your friends," he answered with a half-smile. "A _lot _like them…"

Max had _no idea_ how serious he was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three hours later, when most of the newly-named city of Last Hope was fast asleep, Alec stood rigid by the window. He didn't move a muscle as cars began to turn down the street, arriving together yet separate at the same time. His face was blank as the drivers got out and walked towards the building upon seeing him through the glass.

Max, who was sleeping on a cot on the other side of the room, opened her eyes upon hearing the commotion. She watched as Alec opened the door for several rather shady-looking figures. Drug dealers was the first explanation to come to mind. Drug dealers with lots of guns. She quickly learned this was not the case.

"Thanks for coming," said Alec, hugging each of them. "Make yourselves at home."

"You look good, 494," stated a familiar voice. _Very _familiar, in fact. There was no mistaking it, no matter how many years it had aged.

Max sat up and turned on a light out of instinct. "Eva?"

The group jumped in surprise and whirled around to face her. Max gasped. "You're… you're all clones!" she exclaimed, astonished. "Holy shit!"

"Uhhh, Max, I'd like to introduce you to… _my_ unit. This is Dom, Lynn, Amy, Jo, and Billy. Then… you know Sam," said Alec with a hesitant laugh. "Guys, this is Max. X5-452."

Max could only gawk.

Dom was unmistakably the clone of Zack, though his hair was longer, his skin was tanner, and he had grown a goatee. Lynn, all dark skin and eyes, could've fooled even Case. Amy looked broodier than her '09 escapee counterpart, her round Korean face holding more seriousness than Brin's. Jo, who was at least 5' 11", had those same blue eyes and an identically beautiful face as her long lost sister, Eva. Billy, on the other hand, Max was already slightly acquainted with – the one who had dumped Diana – but she hadn't known that he was in _Alec's unit._ On top of that… there was Sam, all toughness and attitude. Why hadn't he shown any sign of recognition when they had had that run-in with Sam way back when White was still troubling them?

"Alec… why didn't you… _mention_ them before?" sputtered Max.

Sam stepped forward and extended her hand. "Good to see you, too, big sister," she said sarcastically.

Totally thrown off-center, Max only stared back. It was like looking into a mirror at her younger self; full of bad attitude and recklessness. She lowered her eyes and, upon doing so, spotted the slight bulge pushing at Sam's pants. Surprised, the older X5 looked up and impulsively blurted, "Are you pregnant?"

"Four months, three days, and approximately five hours," announced X5-453 with a cocky grin. "Want any more details?"

"No… that's fine…" Max put a hand to her forehead. This was a little too much all in one day.

The X5s abruptly whirled around at the sound of a body hitting the ground.

"Jondy? Are you okay?" asked Alec.

Jondy, who was sprawled on the floor, tangled in her blanket, nodded. "What… what the hell?!" She made a wild gesture towards the clones, gasping for breath. She had obviously fell out of bed upon spotting the look-alikes.

"These are the X5s of _my _unit," repeated Alec. Then, taking his attention away from his wife and Jondy, he clamped a hand on Dom's shoulder in a brotherly manner and said, "Welcome to Last Hope."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Hearns, couldn't have done it w/o ya! ^_^


	2. And I am Invisible

Legal Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this story that appear in the hit syndicated TV show, Dark Angel, owned and created by James Cameron. I do, however, own any and all original characters that appear in this work of fan fiction.

Rating Disclaimer: **PG –13 **I suspect this story will be a bit gory, have a bit of swearing, and several adult themes. However, I will try to keep these at a minimum.

Summary: I have no idea.

A/n: I stole **_A BUNCH_** of things from movies, such as _Enemy of the State_, which kicks ass by the way, so don't be surprised if some of the things you hear sound familiar. And of course, many thanks to Hearns for… well, everything! =)

**Resident** **Evil**

By

Brin 

"Humanity did not mind what was in your DNA; it was what was in your heart." – _Hidden Danger Crouching Cat_ by Hearns

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning was a mess of confusion, with every person that saw the clones gasping their surprise and quickly questioning the presence of dead X5s. Then, with a sigh of exasperation, Alec or Max would have to gently explain that these people were, indeed, not part of the '09 escapees' unit – but clones. By mid-afternoon, Max had made a promise to kill the next transgenic to ask about the sudden change in Zack's appearance or why Eva was suddenly alive again. Alec, seeing his wife's distress and worrying for her sanity, had taken her deeper into the rebuilt area of Last Hope City until she calmed down. Then, he called a meeting of the '09 escapees and the X5s of his unit. They arrived in pairs and when they had all arrived, they sat around in a circle in the living room to wait for Alec to begin.

Zack, nestled in a black leather armchair, fixed his gaze on his genetic counterpart, and Dom only stared back. They resembled sullen statues.

"Hey!" interrupted Billy, slapping Dom on the back. "Dom!"

Dominic looked up at his brother and shook his head.

Alec glanced between the twin-X5s, perfectly aware of the tension settling over the room. From age 10, the twins of the '09 escapees had known nothing but hatred for the SNAKES, TRAITORS, and DESERTERS who had fled Manticore. They had spent more than enough time in psy-ops for both units, had suffered under the tightened leash of security, and somehow prevailed in circumstances that were worse than the '09-ers had ran from. There was no love lost between the two units save Max and Alec.

"So… we finally meet the famous niners," sneered Dom, tossing glares to the other occupants of the room which included his own comrades, Brin, Zane, Syl, Krit, Jondy, Zack, Max, and Alec. "What a _pleasure._"

The Eva-clone, Jo, crossed her arms over her chest. "Alec, what'd you call us here for?" she asked in an exasperated tone.

Alec moved into the middle of the room, holding his hands up. "Okay, okay, I know it's a little tense you guys, but—"

Sam scoffed, receiving a glare from Alec.

"—but if you'll just be patient, we'll get through this. Now," he began pacing back and forth slowly, "I asked you guys to come here because we need your help." He made a broad gesture to himself and the '09 escapees. "We can't do this by ourselves, and there aren't enough X5s out there who'd come and help us willingly."

"I wouldn't call our presence 'willing'," snapped the Brin-clone, Amy, from where she was leaning against the freshly-painted wall. She tossed a defiant stare at her twin. "But I can see why you don't think the niners would be able to hold their own."

Alec clenched his jaw and took a deep breath. "Drop it you guys," he said in a low, dangerous voice. "Right now."

Max watched, slightly impressed, as the other X5s immediately shut their mouths and shrank back a little.

"Okay then." Alec's chest puffed out a little. "Let's get down to business. Jon, tell us what you found out."

Jondy pulled a small, disk-shaped device from her pocket and placed it on her hand, palm upwards. It was about the size of a baseball in diameter. She pressed a small red button on the side and, immediately, a greenish hologram image jumped up from the gadget in a cone-like shape. The image was of a man in his mid-to-late fifties with slicked-back gray hair, a clean-shaven face, and a dimpled chin. Jondy explained, "This man's name is Ted Reynolds and he is the head of the NSA, the _National Security Agency_. In recent news he's condemned transgenics as scars on humanity and nobody wants to challenge him – they guy has got way too much clout for anyone to touch him. If he gives the word, the NSA can bug anyone or anything on the face of the world and track it via satellite."

"So what's that go to do with us?" asked Lynn, twisting a dark lock of hair around her finger.

"Well, check this out." Jondy pressed another button and a small pad popped out of the side. She entered a few characters and then placed the mechanism on the coffee table in front of her. It began to show a video of Ted Reynolds' speech.

"…these things should be kept under tighter control. My association can lock them down so that we can stop them before they begin to run rampant through the streets. No one's controlling these things – not even their so-called leaders. There's no one to take responsibility! They should be locked up like the animals they are…"

Jondy froze the clip as Reynolds lifted his arm to accentuate his point. "Zoom in, clean up the resolution a bit." She pressed a few buttons on the control pad and the tiny device did what she said aloud. In just a few moments they had a clear close-up view of Reynolds' forearm. "Bingo."

Silence settled over the room. Though it was half-hidden by the shadow of the government official's shirt, the scar was unmistakable: a modified form of Caduceus.

"He's a Familiar?" seethed Krit through clenched teeth. "They're everywhere."

"Not only here," continued Jondy. "We've tracked them down to the former president, two Supreme Court Justices, and several Senators and House Reps, including Senator McKinley. They've got people _everywhere_, just waiting to jump out and get us if we so much as consider crossing that legal line."

The X5s were still. This was more serious than they thought.

"We've got an unorganized band of transgenics," began Dom, his voice filled with skepticism, "enough public fear against us to start mobs and violent demonstrations… the entire _government_ at the will of our enemies… transgenic-like beings after us…" He rubbed his hand down his face. "It's suicide to even _consider_ going up against these… _things._" His large hand slammed against the arm of his chair for emphasis. "I won't do it, Alec. Not for you, not for me, not for anyone."

"Dom—" Alec attempted to reason with him, but he was cut off:

"No. I'm leaving." He grabbed his jacket and lumbered towards the door, but the sound of Zack's voice stopped him.

"You guys were right. We're nothing alike."

Dom turned slowly. "What do you mean by that?"

Zack gave him an irate look. "See, unlike you, I'd never run from something like this – from a _real_ challenge."

"You sure ran fast from Manticore," responded Dom bitterly.

"Yeah, well, unlike anything at Manticore, this mission will do _good_ for the world. Hell, it'll _save_ the world for all we know. We could all _die_ on this mission, of course! But the difference between you and me is that I'd rather go out fighting like the soldier that I am than run away and be forgotten."

A heavy silence hung over the room as Zack's words settled into the minds of the other X5s. No matter how many angles they considered, it all came down to one thing: he was right. There was no getting out of this now that it had been brought into the open. Walking away was a cowardly thing to do. No soldier would walk from a fight – ever. On top of that, this wasn't just any fight… it was a fight for life; for the lives of _billions._

"So what do you say, Dom?" asked Alec, breaking the quiet. "You in?" He extended his hand.

Dom stared at Alec's palm for a long, long while, then a broad smile broke out on his face. "Damn straight." He grabbed Alec's hand and shook it firmly. "What do we do now?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"First we're going to need weapons. _Lots_ of them. Lots of assault rifles, especially the M16s, and a lot of handguns that we can hide, preferably .9mm, and we need lots of gas bombs, grenades, rocket launchers – anything that packs a good punch."

Syl and Krit contacted their former weapons provider and snagged box load after box load of the things they needed – everything from tear gas to heat-seeking missile launchers. It would take two days for the shipments to come in.

"Second, we need to take care of the technical matter. I hear the NSA's got some pretty heavy equipment these days. We need bug detectors, C57 trackers, satellite data interceptors, keystroke recorders; anything you can get your hands on."

Dix made several of each item – at least three for every X5 involved. He also managed to get a hold of scramblers, voice modifiers, retina modifiers, and numerous other devices that would come in handy. As an afterthought, he set about building his _own_ satellite and, considering his resources and intelligence, it wouldn't be too long before it was ready to be launched.

"Also, I want everyone to dig into their pockets and find the phone numbers of every nameless person who's given you a ride on their bike or in their Concord. I want traveling to be easy and we can't use the choppers anymore because they've become associated with transgenics. We need to lay low."

This request, however, was not so easy to complete. Post-Pulse transportation was incredibly shaking, and it was hard to find anyone who would provide last-minute getaway vehicles for a fair price. Eventually, they came to a conclusion that they would have to… improvise when possible. Hi-tech, armored cars were just too hard to come by.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam was dozing on a couch in Max and Alec's temporary apartment, which was located in the middle of Last Hope for obvious safety reasons when her twin silently exited her bedroom and crept towards the front door. The younger X5 watched Max through hooded eyes that, at a glance, appeared closed. Before her older sister reached the door, Sam called, "Where are you going?"

Max froze mid-step. "A walk. I thought you were napping?"

"I was," replied Sam, grinning. She patted the cushion next to her. "How about a sister-to-sister chat, huh?"

Though her face betrayed her nervousness, Max sank into the overstuffed couch beside her twin. "So what's up?"  
  


Sam idly rubbed her rounded belly as she coolly responded, "You know, X5 pregnancies are very easy to spot. You're glowing." Max's face went blank. "And Alec has been pampering you like crazy. Is there something you want to tell me?" She smiled coyly and patted Max's hand. 

Max ducked her head, grinning. "Maybe…"

"Aha! I knew you've been busy! So you finally decided to dump the old guy and go for a _real_ piece of meat, eh?" She playfully punched Max on the arm and winked. "You know, getting knocked up is all the rage nowadays," she said in a mockingly dramatic voice.

"It's the truth. Me, Syl, and Brin are already in the club. Jondy wants to have a baby, but Zack's been avoiding it as much as possible." The older twin smiled. "He's still holding onto his manhood."

Sam nodded. "There's something about male X5s and testosterone, huh? They seem to have more of it then is good for them."

Max laughed and replied, "Always."

They sat in companionable silence for a moment, then Sam broke it by saying, "I, um… I know this a little late, but…" She turned her eyes to the floor and cleared her throat. "I just wanted to… thank you."

"For what?"

"Helping me out back when White had my family."

Max licked her lips and replied, "My fault in the first place."

"Yeah, but you stepped up and made up for it… a little." Sam grinned.

"What happened on the way back to Canada?" asked Max. "I imagine you and Kevin had a lot of things to talk about."

"Mhmm." Sam sighed, her eyes growing affectionate as she thought of her husband. "It took awhile for him to warm up to the idea of having some mutant freak as his wife."

"But everything worked out okay?"

Sam's hand moved to her stomach and she winked. "As you can see."

"I guess so," relied Max with a laugh. She stared down at her hands, which rested in her lap, and sighed deeply. "Sam… I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused. I know I'm not the easiest person to be associated with…" Her mind flashed with images of Tinga and Ben; how they had died soon after she located them – mostly because of her interference with their lives.

"Look, Max," Sam began, gently touching Max's shoulder, "it hasn't been easy living in the shadow of Lydecker's favorite little X5. All my life, and the life of my unit, there has been comparisons between your unit and mine – who's got better aim, who can execute this drill faster, who can function best in the real world. I didn't know you guys – _we _didn't know you… all we knew was that you ruined our lives, though we weren't quite sure how our lives would've been better anyway. But we're still here, aren't we? We survived your shadow, and I'll be damned if it gets in the way of saving the world. I come to kick your ass, big sister, so you better be ready."

Max laughed and nodded. "Alright. The game's on."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Brin walked down a row of rifles propped on stands, taking inventory of them for later use.

"356… 357… 358," she counted aloud, making small X's on her notepad as she went. Ben was fast asleep in a pack on her back. Because of recent events, Brin was reluctant to leave him with anyone except Zane, but at the moment he was doing reconnaissance overview with the other X5 males.

"… 359… 360," interrupted a mirror voice. "I see you've been given the slave tasks."

Brin whirled around and lashed out with one hand, grabbing the person behind her around the neck.

"Easy there, tiger," said Amy bitterly.

"What is wrong with you?" barked Brin, pushing her twin away. "I could've killed you."

Amy rubbed her throat. "I think not. Two moves and I would've had that little bundle of joy hanging by his ankles – and you know it."

Brin bristled.

"But don't worry, big sister," continued Amy, "I'm not out for your blood at the moment."

"Go away. I'm busy," growled the older X5. She reached around and gently removed her son from his pack. Her feline DNA added heightened maternal instincts that were screaming at her to eliminate this threat, but the human in her was firmly against any blood around her precious baby. Instead, she cuddled him to her chest protectively.

"Yeah, busy as a bee," snuffed Amy sarcastically. "Counting guns. Not the soldier-type work I think an X5 deserves."

"And what do you think an X5 'deserves?'" questioned Brin with narrowed eyes.

The other X5 didn't reply, but instead snatched the clipboard from Brin's hand and made a big X through the whole page. "They're all accounted for. Jeez, can't you give yourself a break once?"

Brin sighed and took the clipboard back. "First time I did that, I got caught. Next time I did that, I got pregnant."

A soft breath escaping her lips, Amy rolled her eyes. "Wah, wah."

"Okay, fine, what assignment did they give _you?_" queried the older X5, dropping the clipboard with frustration. Ben whimpered and stared at Amy, sensing his mother's aggravation, but confused at the woman who had the same face as his beloved parent.

"Me? I was helping out with some security details, but I'm on break," replied Amy. Her eyes flickered as she noticed Ben studying her. "Wolf's kid, right?"

Brin tensed. "Yeah. What's it to you?"

Amy, suddenly placated, shrugged her shoulders and said, "I saw you two being questioned by Renfro once. He was my best friend in the unit."

"Jealous?" A smile tugged at Brin's lips.

"No!" insisted her twin with a less-than convincing look. "I wasn't jealous." She shifted her weight from one foot to another and winced as Ben's whimpering increased in volume.

Brin switched him from her left hip to her right and pulled his pacifier from a pocket on her pack. He took it from her and popped it into his mouth, mollified.

"Isn't he a little old for that?" asked Amy.

"Yeah, but he just won't get rid of it. He usually tells me what he wants instead of just crying, but he doesn't like strangers."

Amy crossed her arms. "I _look_ just like _you_."

"But you don't act like me," countered Brin. She kissed Ben's forehead. "Are you done harassing me now?"

"I don't know, are you done having fun arguing with me?"

Brin rolled her eyes. "Yes, I'm done. Now let me finish my job."

"Oh, right. Your _job._ Only 2,356 more to go!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The bullets were quickly an efficiently loaded into the gun, the only sound from the operation being the slight scrape of metal against metal. Through the sniper gun's eyepiece, bodies could be seen moving hurriedly along the street, hustling and bustling about their day with no regard for the threat hanging so low over their heads. A finger tightened upon the trigger as an eye searched for a target… searching for the perfect one…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie sat outside headquarters on the edge of the fountain that had built in memory of those who died fighting for transgenic liberation. The clear, sparkling water jetted at least fifty feet into the air and came pouring down into an azure pool that was at least a seventy feet in diameter. Since they fountain was never to stop running, the water was heated during the winter. Steam rose from the surface, creating an intensely comfortable area to just sit and think – which was precisely what Eddie was doing, and had been doing for over half an hour. 

In her hands she grasped a small album that held four or five pictures of herself and Diana. They were of poor quality, taken in the dark at a concert they attended during February, but it was of limitless value to the cat anomaly – it was all she had left of their friendship. It wasn't as if they were the kind of friends who went barhopping every Friday night to scope out guys at bars or had slumber parties and gossiped about every other girl in school… they just understood and cared for each other. Plain and simple.

A pressure was building in her head from the recent events. She felt like she was backed into a corner with no way out except right through the wall. Dix had warned her of delayed shock, and she decided that it was about time to head on down to the makeshift medical center, which was situated in one off the less-damaged buildings of pre-fire Last Hope.

When she stood, however, she was keenly aware of someone watching her. She took a few steps, then whipped her head around. No one. When she turned back around, however, she started in surprise.

Standing before her was a child of no more than ten, with dark eyes and short blonde hair that only hung down to her ears, which were turned out slightly more than they should have been, signaling bat DNA. An X7.

"Hello," said Eddie with an unsure grin. She patted the youngster on the head. "Do you speak?" Only half of the X7 class was given the ability to articulate since the other half communicated with each other using ultrasound, producing a more hive-minded nature than the speaking ones.

The X7 shook her head and, standing on tiptoes, patted Eddie's head as a return gesture.

Eddie allowed herself a muffled laugh. "I see. Do you have a place to go?" She made a few signs with her hands.

Deep, dark eyes devoid of any emotion, the X7 signed back, "Yes."

"Where?"

"My mother's house."

"Is she missing you?"

"She's on a trip to DC as ambassador."

"And she left you here?"

The X7 nodded, but offered no more information. Instead, she sat down on the fountain next to the anomaly and simply stared.

Eddie swung her legs down over the side of the fountain and stood, wiping her hands on her jeans. She tried to ignore the X7's piercing gaze, which was following her every move, but was failing miserably. They stood like that for what could've been several minutes, then Eddie held out her hand and said, "Would you like to come back to base with me… What was your name?"

"My name is Yuri."__

"Yuri. That's a pretty name. I'm Eddie." She patiently waited for the young girl to take her outstretched hand.

The X7 stared at the anomaly with wide brown eyes for a few seconds more, then her ears pricked and her black eyes widened. She opened her mouth, but before she could say anything—

A shot rang out.

Eddie screamed in surprise as a pizza delivery boy fell to the ground right in front of her, his face a bloodied mess from a bullet in the forehead. Chaos erupted as transgenics and Ordinaries alike dove for cover, though none were sure where the bullet had come from.  A statue exploded near to Yuri, and Eddie grabbed her hand to yank the young girl away from danger. The X7 was looking at the statue as she let herself be led away, studying it with her black eyes to determine where the bullet had come from. It took her mere moments to calculate the general direction, and she pulled Eddie down on the safe side of the fountain.

"Yuri, we can't stay here!" yelled Eddie above the fray. Bullets were whizzing through the air all around, striking buildings, cars, and people. She gasped as she saw another female cat anomaly only a few more years older than herself get struck in the shoulder and fall to the ground mere meters away. The injured 'nomlie's head lolled to the side, her eyes locking with Eddie's. "Kat," the name fell from Eddie's lips and suddenly she was up and moving towards the injured transgenic.

Surprised, Yuri jumped up to chase Eddie, only to fall back as the fountain near her head burst into fragments of sharp stone.

Torn between helping her fellow anomaly and the young X7, Eddie froze. "Yuri!" she yelled, seeing the X7's bloodied face. Making a quick decision, the anomaly hurried over to the anomaly and dragged her with some difficulty behind the fountain, then ran over to Yuri. She was surprised to find that the X7 seemed well enough, and was even sitting up with a pocket computer in her hand. "What are you doing?" the anomaly asked, darting her attention between the two injured transgenics. Debris was falling all around them and the sound of people screaming tore through the air, along with machine gun fire and the general sounds of mass confusion.

Yuri pressed a button and showed the screen to Eddie. It said in big red letters, "AUTO RESPONSE UNIT DISPATCHED."

"You called someone in to help! Good!" She pushed down the urge to hug this little girl and, instead, peeked over the edge of the fountain to locate the attacker, obviously a sniper. All she spotted was a gun… but it was shooting. Without a shooter. She zoomed in, pupils widening, and saw that, indeed, the gun was moving and firing by itself. That was impossible.

Then, the gun turned straight to her. Just before the shot was taken, Eddie saw a shimmer of displaced color behind the gun and…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Max heard they had been attacked. She wasn't surprised. She was, however, taken back by the extent of the damage and the nonexistent information about the attacker… but she wasn't going to break down like she had during the siege. This was far more grave of a situation.

"Three dead – two Ordinaries and a X4. Forty-two are wounded, though most have only minor injuries," explained Dix as he stood before Max's desk. "Apparently the attacker was 'invisible,' or so the story goes. The area around the fountain is pretty much destroyed."

The X5 nodded as she looked over the report. "Invisible fighters. What'll they think up next?" she asked in a cool manner, trying as hard as she could to not show any emotion. This was not the time. "Dix, I want you to prepare a press report and get information out as soon as you can – to the stations that'll tell the truth. Tell Zack and Alec to gather the others."

Dix seemed ready to bow, but instead he simply nodded and left the room that was Max's office when she dealt with the political issues that the transgenics faced. As soon as she was gone, the X5 placed her head in her hands and sighed deeply. There was nothing for her to do now.

Minutes ticked by and Max was just about to head out to search for Zack when the door burst open and there stood Pick, breathing heavily. A feeling of dread came over Max; she knew what he was going to say before it even left his lips.

"Eddie's hurt!"

In an instant Max was out the door, nearly blurring the whole way to the medical wing with Pick hot on her heels. Once inside, Pick led her to Eddie's room and the X5 nearly broke down the door to get inside.

Laying on the bed was a badly shaken Eddie, and next to her stood a familiar cat anomaly and an X7 that Max had never seen before.

"Eddie!" Max ran over to her adopted daughter and knelt beside her. "What happened?"

Eddie placed a hand to the bloody bandage around her neck. "Another centimeter over and it would've hit my jugular."

Max allowed herself a relieved sigh, placing a hand to her racing heart. "Shit, I was worried you'd been hurt worse."

"The doctor said I'll be fine," replied Eddie solemnly. "Pick just overreacted a little."

"I'm thankful he did," answered Max. She gave Pick a crooked smile and he shrugged in return. He was pale as a sheet.

"Hello, Max. It's an honor to meet you," piped the tall blonde cat anomaly standing on the other side of the bed.

Max looked up. "Katarina?"

"That's me," she replied with a feline grin. "How did you know my name?"

"Long story," replied the X5. "What are you doing here?"

"Eddie was my roommate when we first moved into Terminal City. I hadn't seen her since you came and the big fight happened," explained Katarina, studying her nails, as was her usual manner.

"Oh… I see." Max smiled and shrugged. "Who's this?"

The X7 stared up at her with wide black eyes, then signed, "I am Yuri, a friend of Eddie's as well. We met near the fountain."

Max studied the X7 carefully. The little girl's face was near covered with bandages, her arms scratched up and swollen. "What happened to you, sweetie?"

"I was hit by fountain pieces." Yuri blinked. "It hurt."

"Well, I'm sorry about that. We'll be taking care of it as soon as possible," explained Max. She looked out the window thoughtfully, then looked down at Eddie. "Speaking of the attack… did you see anything, Eddie?"

"The attacker was invisible, I think… but I saw a shimmer."

"A shimmer?"

"Yeah, like a ripple in the air."

Max touched her chin thoughtfully. "We'll ask Dix about it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_Meanwhile_…__

"Get in there!" shouted a gruff voice.

A cell door opened, and shoved inside was a young woman in her early twenties, her dark hair spilling over her bare back. The door slammed shut, and the young woman slowly sank to her knees. Water dripped from the middle of the ceiling. A small drain was directly underneath it, but the grate was so clogged with mold, dirt, and substances that the young woman didn't care to guess, that a puddle had gathered there. The floor was slick with filth, the walls nothing more than metal sheets. A single light fixture provided the room with a dim glow – just enough for one to be able to see into the cobweb-filled corners.

Tears stinging her swollen, bruised eye, the young woman slid to the floor in a crumpled pile. She was covered in abrasions and purple bruises – a consequence of not holding her tongue. One of her arms was held useless at her side, broken several times by the wrath of her captors. But they had done more damage than that. The eye that had not been harmed was, consequently, her blind eye. No matter how hard she tried, she could not open the other one.

"I can't see," she muttered, rocking back and forth with her knees hugged tightly to her chest. "I can't see!" The yell stumbled from parched lips and a hoarse throat, until the young woman was nearly screaming, _"I can't see!!"_

Outside the cell, her screams went unheard as three people talked amongst themselves in hushed voices.

"How long do you think it'll take to break that one?" asked one of them, a man in his fifties.

"And still have her intact? Two weeks, and that's if we want to keep some of her bones unbroken!" replied an elderly woman of sixty or seventy.

"We only have three weeks until Time. Crack down hard. If you can't break her, we'll Harvest her and take her DNA. Got it?" commanded the third party, another man in his fifties.

"Understood, sir," answered the woman. "It shall be done."

Satisfied, the third party began to walk away, but was briefly stopped as the first man spoke, "Oh, and Reynolds…" A pause. "Don't let us down regarding 452. You don't want to end up likes Ames."

Ted Reynolds let a smirk crawl upon his face. "Don't even worry about it. 452 will be dead by the morning. I've made sure of it." And he walked away, but as he turned the corner he mumbled, "After all, you can't fight an invisible enemy."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TBC…

A/N: Ugh. Writer's block.


	3. Harder to Breathe

Legal Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this story that appear in the hit syndicated TV show, Dark Angel, owned and created by James Cameron. I do, however, own any and all original characters that appear in this work of fan fiction.

Rating Disclaimer: **PG –13 **I suspect this story will be a bit gory, have a bit of swearing, and several adult themes. However, I will try to keep these at a minimum.

Summary: The transgenics go after their invisible menace.

A/N: Been watching Resident Evil continuously because I'm bored. Got some ideas. Zombies ahoy!

**Resident** **Evil**

By

Brin

"There are a thousand hacking at the branches of evil to one who is striking at the root." – Henry David Thoreau

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Chapter 3:** Harder to Breathe

Terminal City was on total lockdown. Windows were covered, doors locked, and no one was allowed outside. Emergency stores had been brought out and the underground crisis tunnels below TC utilized to their fullest. They couldn't, however, live like that forever, and none felt safe with an invisible enemy walking around.

A meeting was held some two days after the incident. The attendants included Max and the '09 escapees, Alec and his unit, Pick and Eddie, and Dix and Leg. Logan was "present" via computer. It was a somber event, and for once in their lives, the Manticorians had no feel for wit.

"So all we know is that there was a shimmer," said Logan.

"That's it," confirmed Max.

Dix looked at Leg, who looked back at him and shrugged. "Well, first of all, we need to know if we're up against technology or genetics – say, a chameleon special ops or some kind of suit that makes you indiscernible from your surroundings."

"Well, is there any record of chameleon special ops?" asked Dom, stroking his goatee thoughtfully.

"Not in any of the files we were able to salvage from the computers after the fire. However, Renfro's disk was never recovered, even after White's death and the destruction of the Centurion facility," answered Logan. "I have, however, been able to track down one of the Centurions. If you think he'll be of any help, I can tell you his phone number and address. I'm sending you a satellite photo of him now."

The transgenics gathered around the computer as a picture loaded on the screen. It was of a young man in his early twenties, his blonde hair disheveled and his blue eyes suspicious as he looked straight upward.

"Did he know you were taking this picture?" asked Dix.

"Not that I know of. After I locked onto him, I hacked into a privately-own satellite and kept it trained on him for some days until he finally looked up. My best guess is that a hoverdrone had flown by," replied Logan coolly. "Do you recognize him as one of the Centurions in Last Hope that night?"

"It's the Alpha," said Zack. "Brock, he said his name was."

"He's listed as working at _Charlie's Chicken_ in a town east of Seattle under the same name. Brock Henderson, age 20. The Centurion facility gave their occupants strict orders to go undercover until further notice, but I guess he didn't listen," Logan explained. "He has a high profile as a pro-transgenic youth leader in that town."

"All the other Centurions will obey for sure. They had near hive minds, but he was an officer – he had to work on his own," reasoned Dom. "But why is he important to us?"

"Eyes Only has reason to believe that he holds invaluable information about the whereabouts of Manticore files, scientists, managers, cafeteria workers – the works. He might have something to offer on the subject of a chameleon special ops, and if not, the rest of his knowledge would prove useful."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Within two hours an armored truck was rolling into Last Hope. It stopped in front of the meeting building and its occupants rushed into the building without even stopping to shut the doors, leaving the streets of the city deserted once again.

Inside, three X5s shoved their delivery onto the ground before them.

"Brock," greeted Max coolly.

The Centurion raised his head to look at her and put on an incredulous face. "You've got to be kidding me," he said wryly. "Gimme a break, lady. I let your little friends go!"

"The hell you did," responded Pick, who was standing behind Max alongside Zack, Dom, and Alec – an intimidating bunch, to say the least.

"Do you think you woulda got outta there alive if I hadn't let you? Come on, don't gimme this bullshit. I thought you were smarter than that." A wry laugh left the young man. "Come on. After all you heard about how much stronger we are? You think that wasn't true? Hm? Don't be stupid."

Fists clenching and unclenching, Max pushed down the urge to hit him across the cheek. "Look, that's not why you're here."

"Then why? So your bulldog there can toss me around again?" Brock pointed with his chin at Zack. "Oh wait, you've got two bulldogs now – and a poodle." A mocking smile rested on his lips as he gestured to Alec.

"Shut up!" Max punched him, but he barely flinched. She stared into his eyes for a long while before quietly saying, "Look, we brought you here because we need your help."

"My help? You kidding me? You fucking need my help? What do you think I am, some kind of saint?" The sarcastic look on his face had changed to one of utter disbelief. "This is bullshit. I'm out of here." He stood and yanked the metal chain of his handcuffs apart with little to no effort.

"Wait," protested Max. "This is important. We need to know what you know about Manticore and what is has been doing… about Sandeman."

At this, Brock became very still. With calculated calmness and strategic apathy, the young man replied, "Why?"

"Someone is killing transgenics in the city. The attacker is invisible, and what we wanna know is whether or not he was cooked up in a Manticore facility," explained Max quietly. "Do you know anything?"

"Invisible trannies, invisible trannies," repeated Brock to himself, looking at the floor in thought. "I can't be sure of what was going on in some facilities, but I know that in my base, the Seattle base, and the Wyoming base there was no successful model of chameleon DNA. Something about newts and the human womb."

Max sighed unhappily. "Well at least we know it's not a transgenic… but what is it, then?"

Nervousness tugging at his features, Brock said quickly, "I do, however, know of a special team that was assigned to design a suit that blends with your environment."

"You what?!" Max whirled on him. "Go on!"

"I believe they succeeded in making it, though it had a few glitches. It was a special LCD-covered suit that used micro-cameras to view the surroundings and recreate them on the liquid crystals," explained the Centurion.

"What kind of glitches?" asked Dom.

"If the occupant moves too fast, it produces a glitched effect because the cameras take a moment to adjust."

"Like… a shimmer."

"Yeah, I assume it would appear as a shimmer."

Max and Alec exchanged a glance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Okay, here's the plan: I need someone to round up all the Aquatic units and any X7 you can find. We have thermal imagers, but we don't want to take any chances. I think that ultrasound combined with the thermal imagery is our best bet. We're going to need a decoy, a room with lots of windows, and strategic posts to locate any attacker. Since he or she is not a transgenic, I don't think we'll have to worry about taking them down. Got it?" Max looked around the room. "Now who's up for decoy?"

"I'm sure everyone will be happy to do it," grumbled Brock sarcastically.

"Brock, how nice of you to volunteer!" replied Max, turning on him with a sugar-coated smile. "Suit him up with a vest and find the room we need."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was hard not to fidget when you were being used to attract a homicidal, invisible serial killer – as Brock was quickly learning. He put his chin in his hand, rubbed his face, pulled his fingers through his hair, fiddled with the hem of his shirt, drummed his fingers, tapped his feet. This was apparently making the others nervous to, because He could see Alec shifting uncomfortably in his seat in a blind spot of the room.

_How long does it take to get a shot off?_ thought the Centurion miserably. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and glanced out the nearest window. No shimmer. No gun. Of course there was no gun! What kind of idiot would carry a gun outside his super-duper invisible guy suit? If he were the attacker, he'd do that. He'd also get an LCD gun, but maybe those cost more than when he had last checked.

Countless hours passed. Brock read all of _1984_ in that time, wholly amused by its resemblance to Manticore. He decided to ask someone to bring him _War and Peace_.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie carefully peered through the boards of her hiding place – inside a crate on the roof of a building opposite the one Brock was in. Yuri was to her right, and Pick to her left. They were both getting jumpy as time passed.

"What's the shooter waiting for?" grumbled Pick as he rhythmically bumped his head against the crate.

"Why are you so nervous?" asked Eddie.

"I'm not nervous," replied the X6 gruffly.

"You're hitting your head. You _always_ do that when you're nervous," stated Eddie in a matter-of-factly tone.

Pick didn't even bother to consider the fact that his head was poised to knock against the crate again as he replied, "I'm not nervous, and I don't hit my head when I am nervous, which is hardly ever."

"Don't confuse yourself," teased the anomaly with a wry grin.

"Ah, milady, I'm sharp as a steel trap and quick as a thimble!" Pick grabbed her around the waist, laughing. "I kiss well, too."

"Yeah, well I can do the pretzel."

"I know. I've seen you do it. Naked."

Eddie shook her head and pushed him away. "There are children present," she said, turning away to hide the flush of her cheeks.

"Sorry, Yuri," apologized Pick, winking at the young X7, who was blushing even deeper than Eddie.

"It's okay," the X7 signed back before returning her attention to the rooftops.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Ugh, I hate waiting like this," muttered Syl under her breath. "Why doesn't he just show himself so we can shoot him down? How do we even know he's still in the city?"

Krit, who was peeking through the blinds of a window, shrugged. "We don't, but we can't take that chance." He moved away from the window to sit on the couch next to her. "What's on your mind, kitty?"

"Nothing."

"Really?"

"Yep."

"You're sure."

"Yep."

"Okay then."

There was a suspenseful pause, then Syl piped, "I'm worried about Max."

"Are you now?"

"Yes, I'm worried! She shouldn't be going through all this! Those damned Familiars. I'll wring them with my bare hands if I ever get a hold of one. Max is pregnant! She should be enjoying time with her family, not fighting some war to protect ungrateful peoples of the world!" ranted Syl angrily. "It's not good for her. What if she gets hurt and the baby gets hurt as well? She'd never forgive herself, Krit. I hate to see her in danger like this. I hate it!"

Krit put his arm around her and sighed. "I agree. Max is going up against some powerful people by what we've seen… but this is her destiny, don't you see? Nothing will happen to the baby. Nothing will happen to Max. You'll see, kitty. Everything plays out as it should. The prophecy says that Max will succeed, and we'll help her there. Alright?"

Syl frowned, but responded, "Alright… I just wish it was someone else and not her."

"If it was, then we'd all be doomed."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So what do you think, now that you've met us?"

Amy's eyes flickered to her clone. "You're okay. I wouldn't trade something for you, though, that's for sure."

Brin shrugged indifferently as she bounced baby Ben on her knee. "Well, is it nice to know that we're not the devil's spawn?"

"I didn't say that," replied Amy with a wry grin. "You're just… now what we thought."

"Or what we were told," piped Lynn, her dark eyes indifferent. "I'm the clone of the one who died in 2019, right?"

"Yeah," replied Brin sadly.

"What was her name?"

"Tinga."

Lynn smiled slightly as she processed the name, rolling it off her tongue a few times, "Tinga. Tinga."

Amy checked out the window, then asked the Aquatic unit stationed with them if he saw anything. He told them no, and they were silent for a long while.

"Brin?" asked Lynn.

"Yes?"

"Tell me about her… about Tinga."

Brin looked a bit taken back. She placed Ben on the couch next to her, steadying him with one hand, and took a few deep breaths. "Well, she was… very kind. Always kind. When we were kids, she was my best friend besides my brother Ben."

"X5 494? The one that went crazy?" asked Amy, pulling up a chair to listen to her twin speak.

"Yeah. That one," replied Brin quietly. "Anyway, she was almost Zack's age, so she played big sister to everyone. She was a really good person, and an excellent soldier for Manticore."

"Do you miss her?" questioned Lynn.

Brin blinked at her. "Of course I do… but she's in the Good Place now. It's better than being in this hellhole."

Amy laughed. "You made a joke, big sister! Good job!" She smiled at baby Ben as she told him, "Your mama's all right, you know?"

Drool leaking from the side of his mouth, Ben cooed and giggled in response.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Max worriedly paced back and forth, nibbling on the tip of her finger.

"You're going to wear a hole in the carpet," warned Jondy as she watched her sister apprehensively. "Max, sit down."

"Mm-mma," mumbled the younger X5, still pacing. 

"Hey, come on. You've got that far away look again. That far away look is not good! Come back to me, Maxie!" Jondy stood and grabbed her sister's arm.

"Wha?" Max blinked dumbly, then shook her head as if coming out of a trance. "What did you say?"

"I said sit down and stop worrying yourself to death. Alec will be alright," comforted Jondy with a soothing smile. "He's in the blind spot. No one can get him… save Brock, but that weenie wouldn't touch him."

Max's hand went to her stomach idly. "I'm worried."

"Stop it."

"No, I'm really worried."

"About what?" Jondy put her arms around her sister and kissed her temple. "You've got nothing to worry about. I'm here. Zack's here." She nodded her head towards the brooding figure by the window that was her husband. "Everything's going to be fine."

"No, I'm worried about me. I'm worried that the whole world is going to go down the drain because I can't destroy some damned invisible sniper," rambled Max, visibly shaken.

"We've had this discussion before, Max," said Jondy in a parental tone. "You are the one. The world is gonna be okay."

For the first time in several minutes, Zack moved from his place in the shadows. He looked menacing and, at the same time, comforting as he stood there with the light over his head. His large hands grasped Max's and he said in the most encouraging tone Max had ever heard, "Only one person can tell you what you can and can't do – and that's you. It's you, Maxie. It's all you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yuri blinked. Was that a shimmer?

Alarmed, the young X7 tugged on Eddie's sleeve.

"What is it? Do you see something?" asked the anomaly. "Run a scan."

Breathing hard out of anxiety, the X7 ran a quick scan of the area. Sure enough, she found a blip in her radar. After relating this information to her companions, Pick used the thermal imager and located the sniper. He announced the discovery of the culprit and got several agreeing reports from the Aquatic units and other X7s. The only one with a clear shot was Yuri – she was the only one who could "see" him.

"Are you ready for this?" asked Pick as he handed the girl the 9 mm.

"I've done it many times before," replied Yuri coolly.

"Aim for the head," instructed Eddie, licking her lips nervously. "Right in the middle."

Yuri nodded, leveled the gun, and shot – just like that. For a moment, they believed that she had missed… and then, they spotted the bullet hole. It hovered in the air for a moment, then it surroundings quivered and the LCD suit failed. The sniper fell six stories from the rooftop, landing in a conveniently-placed garbage can below.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Tell us, Mrs. Brady, how did you take down the suspect?"

Max took a deep breath before answering, "The elimination of the threat was quite uncomplicated – easier than we had first thought. We used a decoy to persuade the sniper to enter a guarded area, then used thermal imagers and ultrasound-capable transgenics to scan for him. I'm actually surprised at the simplicity of the operation." She nodded at the gathered press, then smiled at Alec, who was sitting next to her. The press conference had been called to clear up any questions about what was going on inside Last Hope.

"What do you have to say for the Ordinaries who died during the attacks? Are you going to offer any condolences for putting them in harms way?" asked one reporter.

Before Alec could open his mouth and say something regrettable, Pick jumped in and answered, "Look, Sir, it's not a matter of our presence putting people in danger. If that's so, then what are you doing here, sitting in front of us? Hm? Of _course_ we plan to offer condolences and aid to the families of those who lost loved ones – transgenic _and_ Ordinary. The attack was not our fault. It was the fault of whomever gave the sniper his assignment."

"And do you know who that is?" asked a woman from the back.

"We have an idea," replied Alec cryptically. "But that's another story. I think it's about time to wrap this up. My wife is tired and so are the rest of us. Thank you for coming."

The transgenics stood and went off the stage, ignoring the shouted questions of the press. They filed into the apartment that Max and Alec were staying in, then each flopped onto the ground or couch or chair. A companionable silence settled over them. Their work was done – for today… or so they thought.

Alec turned on the TV to watch the news. Immediately, everyone was watching as the anchor reported:

"…this just in: the house of transgenic world leaders Max and Alec Brady was raided by police today after a neighbor noticed the house opening up all by itself. The house was previously enclosed in steel. Inside, they found several injured, starving men and three bodies. The Brady's, who just held a press conference in Last Hope, have a warrant out for their arrest with charges of kidnapping, assault and battery, and murder. Their adopted daughter is also wanted, but for lesser charges. They are considered armed and dangerous. Proceed with caution."

"What the hell?" Alec yelled as he jumped to his feet. "Shit!" He looked at the other occupants of the room. "That's it. We're leaving."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The icy wind was roaring in Max's frozen ears as she and Alec sped down the highway on his motorcycle. Sleet was swept into her face, freezing her eyelashes and frosting her lips. As they swerved through the traffic, honks following them all the way, she could see Pick and Eddie on their motorcycle riding alongside. Zack and Jondy were not far behind. Brin, Syl, Krit, and Zane had stayed behind to try and clear a few things up before leaving. The '09 clones had taken another route to avoid them all getting caught at once.

"Max!" Alec's voice broke through her thoughts.

"What?" yelled Max over the wind.

"I think we got company."

Max turned around and saw flashing blue and red lights. _Shit_, she thought as she buried her face in the back of Alec's leather jacket.

Cars were moving to the shoulders to allow the cops access, and whether it was a blessing or curse, Alec couldn't decide. He narrowly missed slamming into a semi truck as it slowed, then almost spun out of control to avoid a red Coupe. After passing them, the path was almost totally clear for some distance. He leaned on the gas, pleased to see Pick and Zack pulling up close.

In a few seconds, however, it was obvious that the cops were gaining on them. One of the officers was driving a newly-developed hovercraft/motorcycle, commonly called a motocraft. It was moved in on them fast. Too fast.

"We're not gonna make it!" shouted Pick.

"Evasive maneuvers! Go!" yelled Alec in reply.

They split and began weaving through the traffic instead of going straight down the middle as the officers did. Soon, the motocraft was even with them.

"Pull over your vehicle or we will use deadly force to stop you," announced the cop through a megaphone. "This is your only warning."

"Zack, are you ready for some deadly force?" Alec asked the other X5, who was not far in front of him.

"Always!"

"How about we sandwich this guy?" A mischievous grin came over Alec's face.

Zack swerved behind the motocraft so that he was on the side opposite Alec, holding up one hand in an "OK" sign. On Alec's mark, they jerked towards the middle. Surprised at their audacity, the motocraft screeched to a halt and the officer flew over the front of his vehicle, landing in a heap on the side of the road.

When they got to the private airport where an Eyes Only contact was waiting, the cops were on their tails again. They jumped off their bikes, leaving them lying in the snow, and ran into the nearest building.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Is this all of you?"

Alec turned to see a woman in her late twenties standing before them. She wore sunglasses despite the dimly-lit room, and was armed with many guns. Her long, dark hair hung down her back in a thick braid.

"Who are you?" asked Jondy as she wiped the frost from around her mouth.

"People around here call me Kit, and I would tell you my real name, but then I'd have to kill you," declared the woman as she extended her hand. "I'm Eyes Only's contact. Now, is this all of you? The chopper's waiting out back."

They froze as a loud THUMP was heard against the door.

"Open up! This is the police!"

Max turned to Kit again. "No, we've still got more coming."

"Alright, then I suggest we take care of our visitors." Kit pulled an M16 from the holster around her thigh.

"No, we can't kill them," protested Max. "It'll look back."

"What do we do, then?"

Max looked around at them. They looked back at her. She sighed and said quietly, "I don't know."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lynn stopped just out of sight of the airport. Amy and Billy, Jo and Dom, and Sam pulled up alongside her.

"What do you make of it?" asked Sam, glancing at her companion through her yellow goggles.

"There's only one way to go about it. And that's right through," declared Lynn.

Amy considered the small army of policemen. "She's right. We have a better chance of blowing right through. Jo, you got the guns?"

"Yeah," replied the Eva-clone, pulling several handguns from her bag. She tossed them to her comrades and wrapped her arms around Dom's waist so that she wouldn't fall off the bike. "It's not or never."

Lynn revved the engine of her Y2K jet cycle. She had the fastest bike of the lot, so it only made sense for her to go first. After taking a few calming breaths and mapping out her plan of attack, she announced, "It's on!"

With the roar of engines and hoots of excitement from Dom and Billy, they were off.

Snow and dirt and leaves were flying everywhere from their motorcycles, and the police were fairly confused as they charged into battle. Lynn held her arm out, clothes-lining several of them. She then used a shield as a ramp and flew into the air, shooting cop cars and motocrafts as she moved through the air. When she hit the ground, she was going 160 miles per hour, and that's when it happened. One of the cops shot out her back wheel and she lost control of the bike.

She collided with a cement wall still going 160.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The moment Lynn's bike exploded, Zack, Jondy, Alec, and Max were out of the building to help. Nearly all of the police were lying on the ground either unconscious or half-dead. Most were in their current condition due to the blast. The rest were running away from the scene, fearing for their lives.

"LYNN!" screamed Dom, running towards the smoldering wreck. He stumbled and crawled through the snow, but Zack grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him to his feet.

"We got to go, Dom! We got to go! They're calling in reinforcements! The National Guard will be out here in seconds! Come on, Dom!" urged Zack as he held onto his devastated twin. He understood his brother's pain… he understood it very well. Nonetheless, he had no choice but to drag Dom literally kicking and screaming into the building. Meanwhile, Jondy was pulling Sam with her while Alec dragged Billy in the same direction. All were distraught.

Max approached Jo from behind. She was wary of the Eva clone, mostly because she had gotten to known her the least of all the clones. "Jo?" Tentatively, she placed a hand upon the blonde woman's shoulder. Jo was disconcertingly still, her blue eyes fixed on the fires of Lynn's bike. "Jo, come on. We've got to go. If she's still alive, someone will get her."

Jo looked at Max through tearful eyes. "This is all your fault," she spat venomously, then walked away.

Now it was Max's turn to grow tear-eyed. All the doubt that she had been pushing down for the past few days came rushing back, and she was suddenly short of breath. Lynn was dead because of her. How many more would die, too?

"Max! Max, get over here! We're going to the chopper!" yelled Alec. He ran towards her and grabbed her shoulders. "Max? What's wrong with you?"

"Alec!" shouted Jondy, waving them over. "Hurry!"

"We'll talk about this later," said the male X5 seriously as he pulled Max into his arms and ran back just as a military helicopter flew into sight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a dead sprint to the jet, and the black hawk chopper was not going to let them out of its sight. Bullets were raining down at their feet as they blurred across the airfield. Kit was already in the helicopter, along with Eddie and Pick by the time the X5s got there. A bullet hit the side of the chopper, then narrowly avoided Jo's head.

"Go! Fly!" Kit urged the pilot.

They rose a few feet from the ground before more bullets struck the chopper. The helicopter pilot turned their chopper around and returned fire to the army craft as it rose.

"Hold on," announced Kit.

  
When it was the right height, the pilot moved the helicopter toward their attacker. He went slow at first, then the chopper began to pick up speed. If no one gave ground, they were going to collide.

"What the hell are you doing?!" yelled Dom, attempting to grab the pilot.

"No, let him be!" barked Kit assertively.

The transgenics closed their eyes to wait their coming doom as the copters came closer and closer… but, just before they collided, the military chopper dove for the ground. They were home free from there.

As they passed over the Washington ground and then over the ocean, they knew that there was no turning back now. This was it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: *announcer voice* IS Lynn dead? Where does Alec plan to lead them? What's going to happen next? Find out next time on _RESIDENT EVIL._

Ha, that was fun! =o)


	4. Play My Game

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this story that appear in the hit syndicated TV show, Dark Angel, owned and created by James Cameron. I do, however, own any and all original characters that appear in this work of fan fiction.

Rating: **PG –13**

Summary: I have no idea.

**Resident** **Evil**

By

Brin

"Do not anticipate trouble or worry about what may never happen. Keep in the sunlight." -Benjamin Franklin

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Chapter 4**: Play my Game

She felt herself being dragged down a narrow corridor, the walls on either side brushing against her now and then. Rough hands pushed at her shoulders and back. Something hard and blunt was being pressed against her spine – probably a club. This, combined with her blindness and manacled ankles, made the trip much harder than was acceptable, and her captors were getting angry about that.

"Stay on your feet, bitch," growled one of them as she tripped, the metal of her shackles digging into her flesh. "Move!"

After a small eternity of this abuse, the air grew thinner and the walls on either side disappeared. She was shoved onto the ground, colliding with a warm body. _At least it's not dead_, she thought.

"It's Guzman!" whispered a voice near her ear. Callused hands helped her into a sitting position. There was a light wind over her face as someone waved their hand in front of her eyes.

"She's blind!" said another voice.

"Who's there?" demanded Diana brusquely.

"It's no matter," interrupted a third voice. "You two, be quiet."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ted Reynolds looked down at the blind boxer, inwardly laughing at her plight. A blind boxer. This was too amusing to pass up. He stepped forward and gave her a swift kick in the stomach, much to the surprise of his other captives. The boxer's upper body lurched forward with a strained groan, her arm twisting into a protective position over her ribcage. A drop of blood appeared on her pale lips.

"Mr. Reynolds, if I may say so, you probably don't want to do that before insemination," whispered his assistant nervously. "You could cause bruising that would complicate the…"

"Shut your trap, Winston," snapped Reynolds. "I know the risks. I'm just having a little fun, that's all." He looked at his other prisoners – NFL quarterback Blake Winden and professional tennis player Irulan Williams – and gave them an unfeeling smile. "Welcome to the end of your lives. My name is Ted Reynolds. You may recognize me from the news… but none of that matters anymore. Nothing on the outside world matters, in fact. You are a mile and a half underground, and you are never going to return to the surface. Do you understand me? Never."

The captives had grown very still now.

"You are being held in an institute known to most as The Temple, and you are in the presence of beings that are genetically superior to yourselves. We call ourselves the Familiars. Our mission is to wipe out the lowly species of the earth – that is, humans. You are here to complete the final strand of our genetic lines," explained Reynolds slowly; carefully.

"So… we're here to have kids?" asked Winden, glancing at Irulan and Diana warily.

"In a nutshell, yes. Afterwards, you'll be injected with our Virus and we'll perform experiments on you," replied Reynolds bluntly. "You ladies will be prepped for insemination and you, Mr. Winden, will be prepped and harvested."

"Where's the others?" asked Irulan with narrowed eyes. They had all been shipped to this hellhole in the same train car. "Where's Yolanda and Patterson?"

Reynolds laughed at her coldly. "My dear, they're dead."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yuri paced back and forth, arms clasped behind her in military style. The weather was on. She didn't care about the weather! After the getaway of Eddie and the lot, Terminal City had been in an uproar. Transgenics were arming themselves for public retaliation, falling back upon memories of the siege to guide them. Syl, Krit, Brin, and Zane were doing their best to stop any initial action and, for the moment, the city rested in fitful silence.

Finally, the anchor came back on. Yuri snapped to attention, eyes glued to the screen as he reported:

"We have the latest update on the situation involving Alec and Max Brady. Let's go to Terry with the report."

The screen switched to a blonde woman with too much lipstick. She smiled her cheesy reporter smile and said, "Thanks, Tom. Well, as many of you know, the public is in an upheaval over the murder of several men inside the house of transgenic leaders Max and Alec Brady, but transgenics aren't going to take the threat lightly. There are reports coming in from all over the city that both sides are arming themselves for what will be called one of the first major riots involving members of separate genetic groups."

Several clips were showed of bonfires all across the city, most with people standing around it and shouting to each other, shotguns waving in the air. The city had an eerie, smoky red aura settling around it from all the fires.

"Authorities chased the Brady's for some time before they were able to escape in a privately-owned helicopter, which shot down an Air Force black hawk before taking its escape route over the Pacific Ocean. Their whereabouts are as of now unavailable, but the military expects to pick them up on radar within the hour. This is Terry Bruckheimer, reporting for…"

Yuri didn't hear the last part, because she had run out of the room to relay the news to Zane, temporary leader of TC. After finding him and signing the messages, she stepped back to await orders as he finished assigning patrol duty to some X6s. Brin was standing some ways off, a faraway look in her eyes as she clutched her son in her arms and paced the length of the room.

"Yuri," said Zane, getting the X7's attention. "I need you to go down to the air strip with Syl and Krit to do some poking around. They may need your help as an X7."

"Okay," she signed back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Half an hour later, they were at the site where Max and Co. had escaped. Yuri looked at the chaos unfolding as people ran to and fro, doing their jobs and collecting evidence. There were several ambulances and fire trucks blocking the view of most of the confusion, and the X7 followed her escorts as they stepped up to a man who looked like he was in charge.

"Who the hell are you?" he barked at Syl and Krit as they approached.

"My name is Krit Guevara, this is my wife Syl, and this is our friend Yuri," said Krit coolly as he adjusted his mirrored sunglasses. "Who are you?"

"Gerald Moore, FBI, though I don't see how it's any of your business," he replied icily. "What do you want?"

"We're representative of the transgenics involved in this mess and we'd like to see what's going on," explained Syl.

Moore looked her up and down, eyes narrowed. "This doesn't involve your kind, Mr. And Mrs. Guevara. Let the proper authorities handle all the trouble you people have caused."

Krit grabbed him by the collar and yanked him close, removing his sunglasses so that he could look Moore straight in the eye. "Listen here, cue ball," he growled threateningly, "I don't ever want you to refer to 'my kind' in that manner again. Do you understand me?" Moore nodded weakly. "Good. Now, because you're a good man, you're going to let us behind that police barricade so we can check things out, agreed?"

"Yeah… yeah, whatever you want," squeaked Moore.

With a casual smile, Krit pushed Moore away and dusted off his shoulder. "Alrighty, let's get this show on the road!"

They were allowed inside the barricade, and Syl made a beeline for the motorcycle crash, Yuri in tow, while Krit headed for the helicopter pad.

A small crowd had gathered around the smoldering wreck of a motorcycle. Syl shouldered her way through, Yuri right behind, and came to the front of the mass of people to find the motorcycle, but no body. She let out a small breath of surprise and looked to the emergency worker standing next to her. "Where's the body?" she asked.

"It wasn't found. Our best guess is that it was destroyed in the explosion," explained the worker in a bored tone.

Syl ran her fingers through her long blonde hair. "Are you sure she wasn't just thrown somewhere?"

"Ma'am, when everything is figured out we'll file a report. Otherwise, I can't answer your questions."

"Fine," snapped Syl, throwing her arms in the air. "Let's go, Yuri." She glanced around, but didn't find the girl. "Yuri? Yuri!"

Being an X7, Yuri had a higher sense of surrounding than Syl did. Her sensitive nose had picked up the scent of burnt flesh long before Syl's conversation with the worker began. She followed the scent through the folds of people before breaking through and seeing a half-burnt piece of cloth, no larger than a few threads, snagged on a tree branch. Picking up her pace, she sniffed around and found that Lynn's trail led into a thick patch of bushes. Running now, the X7 ripped the branches aside and found Lynn lying there, burnt beyond recognition and missing half of her right arm.

Unable to scream for help, Yuri ran back to Syl and half-dragged her to where Lynn was.

"Holy shit!" exclaimed the blonde X5, kneeling next to the Tinga-clone. "Help! Help, please! Somebody help!" she screamed. Lynn's pulse was slow and weak under her hand, but it was a wonder that the woman had survived at all. Syl had no doubts that any human would've died instantly from the blast, but apparently not an X5. Lynn even had had enough strength to drag herself out of sight of the military, most likely hoping that a transgenic would stumble upon her and not a bigoted police official.

As emergency crews rushed over, Syl saw Lynn's eyes, mirrors to Tinga's, creak open and look at her, filled with agony but, strangely, trust, as if saying, _You're in charge of me now_.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, in a helicopter flying high over the ocean, silence had taken over its occupants. They sat in their separate spaces, wary of each other, and said nothing – only stared into space, thinking about everything they left behind. Where just a few minutes ago they had been citizens of the United States celebrating the defeat of an invisible enemy, they were now fugitives without a country.

No one had made an effort to figure out who their escort, Kit, was, or their dark-skinned pilot, whom Kit had referred to as 'Mac' in between long silences. At the moment, no one really cared. So the helicopter droned on over the endless ocean, expanding over the horizon in every direction, and the silence endured.

That is, until Kit herself finally decided to get things rolling. She left the cockpit area, confident that the pilot had everything under control, and sat down cross-legged, facing the transgenics. It was a few minutes more before she spoke, "So… some of you are probably wondering who I am." In response, she received a few sideways glances, but nothing verbal. "Alright." A deep breath. "My name is Kit. I can't tell you my last name because, quite frankly, I just might have to kill you if I did. I'm from Britain, if the accent didn't tip you off, and I'm working for the same cause as you."

"What cause is that?" asked Dom, incredulous.

Now that she had everyone's attention, Kit caught Max's eyes and stared at her as she answered, "I'm working against the Familiars."

Stunned, the transgenics stared at her as if she were insane.

"You know about the Familiars?" asked Zack with his eyes narrowed. He tightened his grip on Jondy's hand.

Kit nodded at him, but her eyes were still on Max. "The Familiars hold head position in nearly every government agency and branch save the President's spot. The Chief Justice and four other Justices are Fammies. The Speaker of the House is a Fammy. Believe it or not, the new VP is a Fammy. The CIA, FBI, NSA – they're all controlled by Fammies. Every satellite in the sky is under their control. You have no idea how far their influence spreads. Hell, I'd bet you money that they own every fast food chain in the United States, right down to Chunky's Burger Shop. You can never be sure that they're not listening to you. Their spies are everywhere; the pizza man, the homeless guy across the street, the mailwoman, your kid's babysitter, the little old lady next door with the ten cats – _anyone_ could be a Fammy spy."

Max, squirming under Kit's gaze, felt a bizarre sensation curling across her skin… like she was being _scanned._ When Kit finally looked away, she shook it off and glanced at Alec, who was intensely listening to what Kit had to say, his face pulled into an adorable frown. Without thinking, she kissed him on the cheek, smiled as he glimpsed at her in surprise, and then settled her head on his shoulder, pushing all her doubts away.

"So where do you tie in with all of this?" asked Zack.

Kit's voice lost most of its audacity as she replied, "I used to work for the NSA, and that's how I found out about the Familiars. An anonymous tip came in that my boss was part of a cult dedicated to some Snake Goddess, so I followed the lead and stumbled upon an 'initiation ceremony'… sort of a wrong place at the wrong time kind of situation. They went after me and, before I ran, I saw that, indeed, my boss – Ted Reynolds – was part of the cult.

"I got away, but I couldn't hide. They destroyed my life. When I got home, my phone was disconnected. My water and electricity didn't work and, predictably, I received a voice mail saying that my work with the NSA was over. When I tried to go to the store, my credit cards didn't work and my driver's license was invalid. When I reported it to a Census agency, they said that there was no one in their records by my name. The Fammies made me disappear – as far as the records go, I never existed. They had identified me using a hover drone, and taken my life away just like that. I've been fighting them ever since."

The transgenics processed this.

"So… are they going to make _us_ disappear?" queried Eddie, tail swishing idly.

"Honestly, I couldn't tell you. They won't make Max and Alec disappear – too much publicity involved. However, it is possible that they could put a _lot_ of incriminating stuff on your head – planting drugs in your house, for example. Anything to make you look bad. They're devious," answered Kit. "My partner, Mac," she made a broad gesture to the pilot, who gave them a subconscious wave, "is also fighting against the Fammies. His parents were killed and he was erased from record, just like me. I have one more colleague, Steve Fox, who is in the same boat."

"There's only three of you?" Pick looked surprised.

"Everyone else is dead," replied Kit gravely.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few hours later, the helicopter passed over the Vietnamese east coast. They stopped in a friendly town to fuel up, get supplies, and repair the damage from the military chopper they had taken down.

"We stick out like sore thumbs," complained Pick as they walked down the street, towering above everyone else and feeling very pale compared to the short, tan residents. "A Familiar would see us coming a mile away."

"Don't even worry about it," said Kit, who was munching on a sandwich she had bought from a vendor. "Familiar influence in Asia is at a minimum."

Placated, the transgenics followed her to a small restaurant where she ordered them all soup, being the only one there who could speak Vietnamese. Their _pho_ was quickly brought out, and they dug into the steaming noodle soup with appreciation.

"So… what's the plan?" asked Eddie, directing the question at no one in particular.

"It's not my place to decide," replied Kit. "Eyes Only told me to keep you safe. Those are my only instructions."

Max looked at Alec. Alec looked at Max.

"Your ball game," announced Max to her husband. "I'm on the bench this time around." She placed hand to her belly.

Alec nodded, slurped up some noodles, wiped his mouth, and began to speak, "Well, our first order of business is to interpret the threat of Reynolds. The guy's a Fammy – that much we know. What we don't know is whether or not his personal influence extends overseas. If it does, then the NSA will becoming down on our heads with more power than White could ever create. We will be required to eliminate his threat to us."

"How do we do that?" asked Jo, incredulous. "We don't exactly have all the technology in the world over here."

"Not a problem. If we can make it to Europe, we'll be able to buy everything we need, and before you say it, I have the money to do so," said Alec with practiced composure. He messed with his chopsticks idly as he continued, "After that's settled… we'll have to go after the Familiars directly." He looked at Kit. "How much information do you know about them?"

Kit drank two spoonfuls of broth before replying, "If you're asking me where their base is, I don't know exactly."

"Well, do you know vaguely?" asked Alec.

"Yes."

"Then where is it?"

With a knowing smile, Kit raised her glass to her lips and said coolly, "France, of course."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As they were heading back to the chopper, the air of the town changed perceptibly. All of a sudden, the people were nervous and skittered out of the way as the strangers strolled down the sidewalk. Kit didn't seem to notice, but it unnerved her companions to no end. In an attempt to drive away the strange behavior of the townspeople, Max fell into step beside Jo, whom she was least acquainted with, but felt some guilt for the apparent death of Lynn.

"How you doing?" asked Max softly.

Jo looked down at her out of the corner of her baby blue eyes. "Fine," she grunted.

"I'm sorry about Tinga," apologized the shorter X5. It took her a few seconds and a strange look from Jo to realize her mistake. "I mean Lynn. I'm sorry about _Lynn_."

The blue-eyed X5 pursed her lips and frowned, but her voice was weary as she replied, "You must understand what I'm feeling right now, then."

"More than you imagine," said Max solemnly. "You hate me for taking away your sister. Just like I hate Manticore for the same thing."

Jo didn't reply for a few seconds, then was interrupted when Max's cell phone rang.

"Hello?" said Max into the cell that Alec had bought her a few months ago.

"Max, it's Krit," said the eager voice on the other end. "Lynn's alive!"

"She is?" Max looked at Jo, eyes sparkling with excitement. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm at the hospital right now. The doctors have her in stable condition. She's gonna be hurtin', but she's alive!"

Ecstatic, Max caught Jo's attention and said, "Lynn's alive!"

Jo's eyes widened to the size of tea saucers, her mouth falling open. "Are you serious?"

"Yes, she's alive!" affirmed Max. "Krit, thanks so much! I'll call you back later."

"No problem, sis," he said before hanging up.

"Can you believe it?" said Max, who now had the attention of everyone else. Dom, Billy, Sam, Amy, and Jo were hugging each other with relief. Max was very much surprised when Dom pulled her into a bear hug, the feel of his embrace reminiscent of Zack's, but still distinct. She smiled at him as he set her down, then accepted a hug from Sam and a handshake from Billy.

Alec was nodding approvingly, wrapping one arm around Max's shoulders, planting a kiss on the top of her head. "Thank the Blue Lady for transgenic resilience."

Max laughed, relaxing into his body as they continued back to the helicopter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

About half a mile away from where the chopper was stationed, Kit's demeanor changed noticeably. Whereas before she had been laid back as she led them down the sidewalk, she was now glancing around nervously and becoming startled by the slightest occurrences.

"What's wrong?" asked Zack, the first one to say something about it. The airstrip was in sight.

"There's someone following us," whispered Kit through the side of her mouth. "Don't you feel it?"

Indeed, Zack had been feeling the tingling sensation of being watched for some time now. He hadn't said anything in the joy of Lynn's survival, but now everyone else was starting to notice as well. Placing a protective arm around Jondy's slim shoulders, he inconspicuously looked about the street. It was not as crowded as before… In fact, now that he looked, it was rather deserted.

Something was up.

"Are you sure about their influence not being as strong here?" murmured Dom cautiously.

"Yes, but I never said it didn't exist," replied Kit. She took one more glance around before halting mid-step and promptly shoving Zack and Jondy to the ground. Just as she did, a spray of bullets went through the air where the couple had been standing, instead hitting the building next to them.

"Son of a bitch!" shouted Jondy, hands over her head as brick pieces scattered over her.

"There he goes!" yelled Billy, pointing to a cloaked figure running across the top of buildings.

And the chase was on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Springing to action, Alec and Max blurred into the nearest alleyway and leapt onto a fire escape. Bounding up the steps, they reached the roof in record time. Their culprit was a considerable ways ahead of them, so they wasted no time in running after him. Blurring the whole way, even through the air as they jumped the spaces between buildings, the two transgenics had gained sizeable ground in matter of seconds. Their quarry was glancing over his shoulder every now and then, alarmed at the closeness of the transgenics. He didn't know, however, that this much continuous blurring was sapping Max and Alec's energy. Much more of this, and they wouldn't have any strength left to fight him.

Luckily, transgenics work together better than one thinks.

Just as Max and Alec were about to collapse, their salvation arrived. Dom and Billy leapt out of the ally in front of their quarry, knocking him to the ground. Amy and Jo closed in from one side, Eddie, Pick, and Sam on the other, with Max and Alec catching up from behind.

"Who're you working for?" demanded Zack, grabbing the man by the collar. When he didn't get an answer, he shoved their captive down and searched his pockets, finding a wallet and badge for the NSA. "Well that answers my question."

"Gimme the wallet," said Dom. He flipped it open to find several fake I.D.s and a large amount of cash. Going with the American I.D., he read, "James Faulkner. Well, Mr. Faulkner, I hope you realize the situation you've gotten yourself into."

Billy, who had his gun trained on Faulkner's head, added, "You're not getting out of this alive."

"You got that right," replied Faulkner. Before anyone could stop him, he reached into his jacket.

There was a shot, a gasp of pain, and a spatter of blood against the rooftop.

"Well I'll be damned. The bastard would rather shoot himself than talk," muttered Billy to himself. He took the bloody gun from Faulkner's cold dead fingers. "One down."

"Got that right," said an irony voice behind them.

The transgenics whirled around to see a young Vietnamese woman standing there. She lifted her arm, exposing the gun in her hand and the Caduceus-shaped scar on her arm. With a sadistic smile on her face, she fired several shots into the small crowd of transgenics as they scrambled out of the way.

Pick, diving behind an air conditioner with Eddie on his heels, pulled his trusty 9 mm from his jacket. Bending an arm around his fortification, he shot blindly in the general direction of the Familiar until he ran out of bullets. All was silent. He finally dared to peer around the metal box protecting him, and saw that the Familiar was lying on the ground in a puddle of blood.

Standing, he and Eddie inched forward to inspect the body. Her abdomen was riddled with bullets, some from Pick's gun and some from the others'. One of the bullets had gone straight through her neck, but the killing blow was a shot to the forehead.

"Shit, Jo!"

Pick turned around and saw Billy bent over a mass of blood and blonde hair. He ran over, already ripping off his shirt to use as a bandage.

It was no surprise that someone had been shot. The attack had been unforeseen and brutal, a bad combination. A bullet had struck Jo in the back as she fled, bursting out the other side. She was shuddering, pale as a sheet, and gulping down air as if she couldn't breathe.

"She's going into shock," announced Billy. He took the shirt from Pick and pressed it into the wound. "Someone go get Kit. See if we can get her medical attention. Hurry! I think it might have hit some organs."

Eddie ran off to do as he said, while the others knelt and looked on, helpless.

Jo's eyes were wide and bloodshot, her mouth creaking open and closed, mindless with pain.

"Look, Jo, if Lynn can survive a motorcycle blast at 160 miles per hour, you can survive this. Got me, Jo? Do you understand me?" Billy was saying. He smoothed the hair from her forehead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few hours later, in a Vietnamese hospital, Billy and Dom paced back and forth restively as the others looked on. People were openly staring at the towering X5s, Kit, and Mac, but with an air of curiosity, not hostility. A handful of people stopped by and greeted Kit, who they seemed to know one way or another.

Shifting uncomfortably in her cold plastic chair, Max studied Amy out of the corner of her eye. It was amazing how distinctly she could tell the twins apart – Dom and Zack, Amy and Brin, her and Sam.

The first thing you noticed between Dom and Zack was, of course, Dom's bushy goatee. It made him look older than Zack, but the dissimilarity could easily be erased with the swipe of a razor blade. On another level, their mannerisms set them far apart. Dom was in constant motion – pacing, stroking his goatee, messing with something in his hands, tapping his feet. He gave the impression of a tiger pacing in its cage, waiting for dinner or something to swat at. Zack, on the other hand, was extremely tranquil when not speaking. It was easy to forget his presence in a room until he suddenly spoke up, getting everyone's attention almost instantly. Even now, Dom stood pacing and Zack was still as a statue in his chair, head leaned back and eyes closed.

When it came to Amy and Brin, their speech was everything. Amy had a wicked tongue and, when she was relaxed, swore often. Her cutting barbs could make anyone feel diminutive; it was a form of manipulation that worked only for a scant few. On the other side of things, Brin's experiences in life had given her an almost docile nature. Reindoctrination no longer held any influence over her head. She was wholly dedicated to motherhood and cursed little, making enemies few and far between. 

Then there was herself and Sam. Max shook her head. She had always considered herself to be street-savvy and independent, but Sam took first prize. Sam had perfected the art of smooth talk and tilting her head just the right way to be endearing. If you were inexperienced at this, you ended up looking like an owl. Other than that, it had been noted that Sam spoke with an almost imperceptibly lower tone than Max did.

"Max. Max. Max!"

"Hm?" Max, pulled out of her reverie, looked up at Alec. "What?"

"The doctor." He pointed to a small man who was talking to Kit.

After a few minutes of discussing, Kit nodded and thanked the man before coming back to the group of waiting transgenics. The smile on her face was a good sign, and a sigh of relief was breathed when she translated, "Jo's going to be just fine. The bullet missed everything. Over her stomach, under her lungs, and around her spine. She's goddamn lucky."

Dom looked like he was going to cry, so he did nothing but hug Amy and Sam, because speaking would probably end in tears. Billy clapped people on the back, obviously underestimating his strength by the way Alec's eyes went buggy when he received the hefty whack to the pine.

"So what now?" asked Dom, bouncing on his toes and rubbing his reddish eyes.

Max looked at Zack. Still hadn't moved.

"Well, if it's okay with you, I could find her a place to stay. There's a family that I visit often, and they are very trustable. She'll have everything she needs, and we'll come back for her after all is said and done," suggested Kit coolly, and in such a manner that the idea suddenly seemed brilliant, though simple and slightly flawed.

"And if they come for her there?" asked Amy, the look on her face revealing her increasing need to poke fun at something – and she didn't fail to deliver. "What happens then, oh wise one who knows everything?" Her lips curved into a scornful kind of smile.

Kit narrowed her eyes. "They won't find her there. The family lives deep in a rural area, and go to town only once a month. She'll never have to be seen. They'll provide for her. I've stayed with them during rough times myself."

Amy made a sort of "Hmmrf" sound, but said nothing.

"It's the best plan we got," offered Billy in a peace-making gesture. "Are you sure they're trustable?"

"Are you sure _she's_ trustable?" snapped Amy, causing mild shock within the group.

Ignoring her, Kit answered Billy, "Very."

And so it was set. With the proper medical supplies in tow, Jo was shipped off to a family in rural Vietnam with no knowledge of the language or any idea what was happening due to morphine and pure exhaustion. Dom left her a note and even bought her an English-Vietnamese dictionary before leaving. It would take her a few hours at most to learn a clipped version of the language by studying the dictionary, and two days at most to become fluent by hearing and speaking, as was the way a transgenic learned.

With that taken care of, the transgenics climbed into the helicopter and were off once again. Their destination – France.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Diana lay on the floor of her cell feeling cold, hungry, angry, and utterly alone. After giving her a few more punches and kicks for good measure, Reynolds had instructed that they be returned to their cells for the night. There was no way to tell it was night beside the exhausted feeling in her mind. As it were, the swelling in her right eye was beginning to go down, so maybe she'd be able to see in awhile. The throbbing in her broken arm hadn't stopped, though, and she was too tired to shift her position to be more comfortable. She was hardly aware of up or down, left or right, but she assumed she was laying on her back.

Now she understood why, in all the movies she had grown up watching, it was so terrible to be locked in a cell with nothing to do but think. When someone was trying to break you, thinking was dangerous.

Here she was, a mile and a half underground, with nowhere to go except through a bunch of presumably armed guards. The boxer in her was despondent over her arm, which was either dislocated or snapped in two. As it were, she was pretty sure she could catch something behind her back without turning her wrist. It was the kind of injury that, if not treated, could drive a stake through the heart of her career. Crying stung her battered and bruised eye, but she did it anyway. What had she done to the world to deserve this? Was she being punished for some cosmic infringement?

Lifting a hand, she touched a spot on her head that was crusted with dry blood. She vaguely remembered someone hitting her with the butt of their gun and the splitting headache thereafter. How long had she been here? Days, perhaps? Weeks? Months? There was no way of knowing, partly because the blow to her head caused a concussion, which in turn caused her to slip in and out of consciousness almost randomly. She had fainted while Reynolds was telling them something about the insemination process, and had been woken up by Reynolds' foot colliding with her back.

Irulan and Blake had tried to offer some help, but Diana guessed that they had been sufficiently beaten as well. Professional sports players were just difficult like that.

Had the situation been different, she would've been endlessly amused. Here was some kind of whacko cult holding her captive so that she could have babies for them and complete the circle of life or some other bullshit. What a crack bin. Being the sadistic, cynical person that she was, she would've told them that there were easier ways to make babies than getting up close and personal with a turkey baster. Alas, the gun was to her head and her tongue was held at bay until fate reared its ugly head and she did something to get herself killed. It was only a matter of time.

She frowned even though it hurt to do so. Only matter of time until she was shot, dismembered, or poisoned. That was the cold hard truth…

But somewhere, in the back of her mind, she was comforted by the thought that maybe someone outside this oversized rat burrow would miss her and, even better, someone was trying to save her. Her best friend, perhaps? Ah yes, Eddie would miss her, right? She suddenly regretted the times when she was cruel to the girl. It wasn't that she was intentionally mean, mostly, but more of a self-defense habit. Cruelty pushed people away, though she tried to loosen up when Eddie was around. They clicked, simple as that.

Calmed, Diana changed her position so her broken arm would stop bothering her so much. As she drifted into a fitful, dreamless sleep, words from somewhere in the depths of her memory, the voice smooth and consoling, flitted through her ears…

_The only way to stay sane in an insane world is to think about the ones you love because, when everything goes to hell, they're all you're going to have._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie was fast asleep in Pick's arms, her tail curled around her body so that it touched her nose. The flight had been going for many, many hours now, and boredom had overtaken most of the passengers. Nearly all of them were sleeping.

Her boyfriend watched her sleep, a tender smile on his lips. Two years ago, he gallantly told people that no woman would ever tie him down or have him on a leash… but, as it turned out, he was wrong. He would embarrass the hell out of himself if it pleased her, and he knew it. She knew it. Everyone knew it, but, for some reason or other, it didn't bother him in the least. Brushing her forehead with his lips, he settled against the seat of the helicopter. The tip of her tail kept brushing her nose, and she would wiggle it in her sleep, occasionally swatting at it as if it were an annoying fly. Pick was always amused by these actions, which she did quite often while sleeping.

"Hey," greeted a quiet voice.

Pick looked up into the dark eyes of Max and smiled briefly. "Hey."

"Is she alright?"

"Yeah, she's fine," whispered Pick, turning a caring smile to his mate. "Just tired, that's all… and worried."

"About Diana?" Max sat down in the next chair, concern etched in her features.

"Mmhmm," he made an affirmative sound. "Sometimes, I think she feels that everyone else is distracted. All she wants to do is get Diana back, but sometimes, with all the Familiar stuff going on, she thinks no one else does."

"And did she tell you this?" Max now smiled.

"No." The X6 gave her a sheepish look. "I just… know."

"Uh huh. Good to know she's in good hands… arms," laughed Max, placing a hand on his shoulder. Despite popular belief, touching was a main source of comfort among transgenics, like humans or even more so. Anything from a slight brush against the cheek to an intimate hug was immensely relaxing to a transgenic. They really didn't have a sense of personal space when it came to each other, though when it came to human-transgenic interaction there tended to be more space needed.

"It's crazy, huh?" Pick broke into Max's thoughts. "When we were created, they thought we were incapable of love."

Max's lips curled into a catlike grin. "Loonies with technology, that's what Alec always says."

Pick laughed quietly so as to not wake his girlfriend. "Sometimes I wonder."

They shared a companionable silence, then suddenly everything shifted upwards and the transgenics were tumbled over each other, along with various boxes of cargo and some loose chairs. As the chopper was right again, Kit's head appeared around the copilot seat. "We got company," she announced calmly.

"No shit, Sherlock!" came Amy's voice from somewhere within the pile of transgenics and boxes.

The missile that they had dodged suddenly exploded, distant but not far enough to not be deafeningly loud and shake the chopper a bit.

Max's head poked up from the mess of arms and legs. She looked outside the windows and saw three choppers on one side, two on the other. This was _so_ not good. Struggling to pull herself from the pile, she yelled to Kit, "Do you have parachutes?"

"Of course we do," came the reply. "In one of the boxes!"

"Well that's fucking great. There's only like twenty of them and it'll probably be the last one we open." Amy's cynicism shone bright even now.

"Everyone choose a crate," announced Max, ignoring the Brin-clone pointedly.

After untangling themselves, the transgenics went to work opening crates, sometimes bracing themselves as Mac expertly avoided the attacks coming at them. Idly, they wondered how a single chopper could survive against five or more, but they weren't complaining.

The chopper dived low as another missile whizzed by, then jerked to the left and up to avoid two more. Crates and transgenics were slipping everywhere, and presently an incessant beeping noise broke through the intense racket of chopper blades and crates scraping against the floor.

"What is that?" shouted Dom over the din.

"They've targeted us. We need to bail out. _Now_," answered Kit. She leapt from the copilot seat as Mac turned on the autopilot and did the same.

"I found the parachutes!" announced Billy.

In a matter of seconds, everyone was fitted with a pack. A few more seconds, and they had all jumped from the craft without a second thought. Just as the last two – Pick and Billy – dove into the air, a rocket hit the chopper, sending them flying outwards and off course. Machine guns were rattling as the helicopters attempted to shoot them out of the air, but to no avail and, fairly soon, they stopped shooting and instead gave chase.

Free falling thousands of feet was not Alec's idea of a picnic, and even less so when he realized with horror that he was falling into something fatal – literally. A chopper had materialized through the crowds directly under him, and he was closing in fast. The blades spun menacingly, ready to chop him into little pieces. He twisted his body in an attempt to get away, but the deadly blades seemed to be sucking him in.

What, in reality, had only been a second or two seemed like hours to Alec. He closed his eyes and flinched away from the blades but, just before he was sucked into the cyclone of metal and torn to pieces, something struck his side. Careening into the air to the left of the chopper, he passed the blades by a foot or two.

Opening his eyes, Alec breathed a gasp of relief and looked to his savior. Kit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rest of the landing went without serious trouble, though Billy almost got swept away by his parachute when he was on the ground. They landed, by some miracle, in southern France. Mac's Post-Pulse chopper had gotten them there quicker than any Pre-Pulse model could. Seeing as they had landed in the middle of a town, a not so small crowd had gathered around the strangers from the sky.

"Qui êtes-vous? Que voulez-vous?" a young man was saying, pointing a pistol at each of them. _Who are you? What do you want?_

Finally in a country where the X's knew the language as well, Max answered, "Nous sommes l'Amérique. Nous avons besoin d'abri ou de transport. Pouvez-vous nous aider?" _We're from America. We need shelter or transportation. Can you help us?_

The young man stared at her for a long time, then put his pistol on Eddie. "Nous ne pouvons pas aider le démon." _We can't help the demon._

"What did he say?" whispered Eddie. The sound of her voice caused the people to spring back as if struck.

"He said you're a demon," translated Pick, his voice dangerous and low. "Elle n'est aucun démon. Elle est un ange." _She's no demon. She's an angel._

"Nous devons arriver à Paris. C'est très important," said Max. _We must get to Paris. It's very important._

There was a brief moment of uncertainty as to whether or not the young French man would shoot them, but eventually he lowered his pistol and made a gesture for them to follow him. As he walked, he informed them that they were in Toulouse and it would take them many days to get to France on foot, a day by train, and a few hours by air. None of the visitors were eager to hop into a plane or chopper at the moment, so they opted for the train.

It was strange to see a train so long after the Pulse, because in America all railroad tracks had been dismantled by either the government or anarchist mobs, which was essentially quite ironic. As it pulled into the old-fashioned station, the group was given the impression of a giant antique. Giving their thanks and several hundred American dollars to the young man, they climbed aboard a passenger car and were off to Paris.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once inside, there was little to speak of since everyone all but collapsed into the cramped rooms. The train bumped and bustled along, rocking pleasantly, and soon they were all asleep again. Hours and hours of being inside the helicopter had exhausted them beyond compare.

Some time later, Max jerked awake. An awful sense of foreboding had come over her, and she glanced around nervously, half expecting everyone around her to be dead already. Instinctively, a hand snaked to cover her lower stomach. Despite the terrified feeling in her gut, she was hungry.

Making sure not to wake the other occupants of the room, the transgenic slipped into the narrow halls of the train. To her left was a young woman holding a baby to her shoulder, rocking it gently. To her right, an elderly man was slowly but surely making his way down the hall. She turned sideways and slipped past the old man, her arm brushing against his wrinkled, plastic-esque hand.

In the dining car, Max ordered herself some saltines and juice (the only things she could stomach), surprised but thankful that they had it. While she waited, her eyes traveled over the car absently. Her second nature was kicking in as she registered the threat or lack thereof from the other passengers. A middle-aged couple with two kids, elderly tourists, a group of fraternity boys – nothing terribly hostile. She relaxed into her seat, admiring the white table cloth and glass salt and pepper shakers. When her food was brought out, she munched on it slowly and continue to study the comings and goings of the room.

Eventually the couple with the kid left, their seats replaced by a young woman and her mother. Max watched them carefully. The hair on the back of her neck was standing on end, but she had no idea why. Her eyes swept over the car again, located the old man from the hall just in time to see him dart his gaze in another direction. A baby's cry called her attention to the young woman from the hall. She stood uncomfortably. Either they were all hungry or something was up. The clock said 4:14, too late for lunch and too early for dinner. Something was definitely wrong here.

Occasionally bracing herself against the train's bumps, Max moved towards the door, only to be cut off by an elderly woman with a pink bonnet.

"Excuse me," said the transgenic, trying to sidle by the woman.

"No, excuse me, dearie," replied the crone, smiling sweetly. She touched Max's elbow as they eased past each other.

Nearly running back to the room, Max was on edge. Dodging everyone in sight, she ducked into the room just as that young woman with the baby appeared once again…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As soon as she was inside, a hand clamped over her mouth. Panic gripped her chest, then went away as she saw that it was Alec. "Shit, you scared the hell out of me," she breathed as the hand was removed.

"Don't move," he whispered, eyeing her.

Kit stepped up from behind him, a metal wand in her hand. She swept it over Max's body, stopping momentarily as it beeped over her hand and elbow. "You've got trackers on you," she announced.

"What…?" Max paled as she remembered the old man and woman discreetly touching her as she passed. They couldn't have…

"Hold still," said Kit, pulling a pair of tweezers from inside her jacket. She took Max's hand and studied it carefully. After a few agonizing minutes, her hand darted forward and pulled back, giving Max the briefly painful sensation of being pinched. "Lookee what I found," announced the woman, holding the tweezers to the light.

Max narrowed her eyes. Clutched in the tweezers was a tiny bug-like thing, no bigger than half of an ant. Its almost microscopic legs flailed helplessly – so thin that Max hadn't even noticed them digging into her skin. She looked down and saw a drop of blood appear on her hand.

Kit squished the bug and pulled another from Max's elbow, stunning the transgenic beyond words.

"What the fuck?!" Max wiped the droplet of blood from her arm.

"The NSA has got people on board," said Alec quietly. "Did you see them?"

"Yeah, some old geezer and a hag," barked Max angrily. "I don't believe this. Can't I eat a cracker without some fucker trying to jack my ass?"

"Calm down, Max," insisted her husband gently. He put an arm around her waist. "They won't attack us when we're all together. Not in such a cramped train car, but the moment we step into an area where it won't look like a massacre, they'll be all over us."

"I know," she whispered, leaning her forehead against his. "Alec, I'm scared. I don't know how long we can keep this up."

"Don't worry, Maxie," he replied with a kiss to her nose. "We'll be okay."

Max rested her chin on his shoulder, then lifted her eyes to the troubled faces of their companions. Pulling from her husband, Max placed a hand to his chest and smiled. "How about coming up with a plan, then?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On the platform in Paris, Steve Fox anxiously waited for the train to arrive with the other two branches of his team. He anxiously fingered his unbuttoned silk shirt, ignoring the looks that passerby's gave his exposed chest. A quick glance to his watch revealed that the train should pull in any time now and, a second or two later, it arrived on cue.

Growing even more tense when Kit didn't emerge for some time, he wandered closer to the locomotive. After a few more long seconds, he spotted a familiar face peeking from behind a curtain. She wasn't looking at him, however, and that was enough evidence to make Steve back off. Quickly. He had learned the hard way that when Kit was acting strange, it was time to disappear and wait for when she gave you a signal.

Quickly sweeping his eyes over the station, he didn't see anything particularly out of the ordinary if you didn't count the insane clown that was playing with kids and pick pocketing their parents, the bastard. He checked his pockets to make sure his own wallet was still there. Yep, everything intact. So what was Kit up to? He looked at her again, but she was gone from the window and now standing a few feet away in front of the train. Behind her was Mac, and next to him were three men he didn't recognize. Twin brutes and an overgrown kid. How helpful.

Steve watched them carefully. They moved a few feet from the train, following a pace or two behind Kit, then the crowd suddenly swelled, causing him to lose sight of them. He began walking in the general direction of their disappearance, then a blink of light caught his eye. Looking towards it, he spotted the unmistakable form of a sniper perched in one of the upper windows. Pulling his gun from his pocket, the crowd was diving away from him even before he shot the sniper from the window and took off running.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kit knew Steve was somewhere in the station, but looking for him proved too much of a danger, so she simply waited for him to make his presence known and, of course, he didn't fail to deliver. She had seen the sniper in the window, but had no way of getting rid of him without raising alarm. Now, Steve was making their job a whole lot easier. Undoubtedly oblivious that he had created a distraction while the transgenics made their quick getaway, the young man was more useful when he wasn't in on the big plans.

"Well boys, you ready to get shot at?" asked Kit over the noise of the unfolding chaos. "I gotta go save someone's ass. You with me?" She glanced over her shoulder at Dom, Zack, and Pick, who nodded slightly. Behind them, Jondy, Max, Amy, Billy, Alec, and Eddie made an inconspicuous exit from the train. Mac looked anxious to get things rolling. "Good."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"How the bloody hell do I get myself into these things?" muttered Steve as he pushed, shove, and dove his way through the mass of people. He knew he was being chased, but didn't dare look back and see by who. Most likely undercover cops, security guards, and quite possibly a whacko cultist.

He leapt over a man bending over to pick up a coin, then grinned roguishly as he heard his pursuers trip over the obstacle. People were stopping dead in their tracks to watch the spectacle, forcing him to practically part them with his hands as he moved forward. It was like wading through mud… which he had had to do once, for miles and miles…

_Stay on task, stay on task_, he berated himself. He liked to believe he had some kind of disorder that made his mind drift every other sentence, but Kit told him it was just the way he was. She told him a lot of things like that, and usually with an annoying smile that relayed the words "I know something you don't", as if he were psychic. Maybe he _was_ psychic, and that's what was wrong with him…

Colliding into a young couple, he briefly apologized before taking off again, chanting mentally, _Stay on task, stay on task…_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Max knew they weren't in the clear even as she exited the station. The old man and woman were following him from a safe distance, but not unnoticeable to the trained transgenics. They crossed the street as Kit had instructed, and entered a small café there. As the rest of them sat down, Jondy and Amy slipped off to the bathroom.

Alec stared hard at the back wall, gritting his teeth as he watched through a mirror the elderly couple discreetly entering the café and sitting down across the room, never once glancing in the direction of the transgenics. He calmly ordered a cup of cappuccino and waited for it to arrive in silence. Max was trying her best to appear interested in what Billy was saying, a mish mash of computer terms that were meant to fill space, but the tension in the air was as thick as the cream in the little plastic containers on the table.

In the meantime, Amy and Jondy had climbed out of the bathroom window and were sneaking in through the front door, their lithe forms hidden by the bulk of two men as they walked in. They slipped ever so silently behind the old couple and each produced a gun from inside their jackets. With one fluid, synchronized movement, they jammed the barrels of their guns against the sides of the two people. The woman flinched and the man jumped in surprise, but before they could make a sound, the transgenics' hands clapped over the mouths.

"Make a noise and you're dead," whispered Jondy before removing her hand to as to not attract attention.

Before their captives could choose whether or not their loyalty was strong enough for death, Amy and Jondy pulled them bodily up and led them towards the door with calm mutterings about crazy grandparents. This act was intended to make people believe that Amy and Jondy were simply taking care of this elderly couple, and it worked marvelously. When they were gone, the others followed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kit and Mac were expertly weaving through the crowd in front of Zack, Dom, and Pick, but the three transgenics were having trouble doing the same. Occasionally, one of the three would collide head-on with a passerby and receive an angry French reprimand.

They could see the chase still going full-speed ahead of them, but since they weren't attempting to plow straight through, they were quickly gaining on the pursuers and quarry. Kit was the first to reach some action since she was the head in their game of follow the leader. She stuck her foot out as a security guard leapt over some suitcases, causing him to do a face-plant into the concrete.

Meanwhile, Mac had somehow slipped in front of a cop and, without raising attention, knocked him senseless by putting a taser in his side.

At the back of the group, Pick was in charge of looking for NSA or Familiar operatives following them. He was vaguely aware of several people moving in the same pattern behind them, but there was no way to be certain if they were innocent bystanders or predators. Concentrating, the X6 made himself focus on two things: one, the back of Zack's jacket and two, the crowd behind him. If he didn't concentrate on both, he would either wander away from the group or lose track of those behind them.

This was what he was made for. This was Manticore genetics and training at its very best. His body hummed with anxiety as he worked, listening to the steps and shuffles of those he couldn't see. A young child pattered to his right. Two young women scuffled by on his left. He focused harder, feeling the rest of the world fade away. The vibrations under his feet were all he knew, and the small speck of dust on Zack's leather jacket. A large group of tourists were moving quickly across the concrete, boots and high heels and sneakers each making distinct wave patterns. By just listening, the transgenic could tell the height and weight of each person in the room. Then, his mind locked onto something suspicious. Boots, unmistakably. They were weaving through the crowd with a determined stride, but made close to no noise. Pick blocked everything else out. About 6' 5", 200 pounds. He looked over his shoulder to see the man looming above the crowd and stopped, allowing Zack, Dom, Mac, and Kit to keep moving ahead.

The tall man kept going forward, not seeing Pick through the folds of human bodies, and didn't notice the transgenic slip into step behind him until it was too late.

"Hey," Pick got the man's attention.

He whirled around, gun readied, but Pick's hand shot out, grabbing his wrist and pointing it upwards. A bullet hit the ceiling, causing plaster to rain down on them, and then hell broke loose once again.

By this time, Kit, Mac, and Dom had somehow disabled all the cops without raising a single suspicion. Steve was walking over to them now, his chest heaving. "It's about bloody time!" he snapped in a brusque British accent, much harsher than Kit's pleasant lilt.

Zack hadn't wavered from their path even as his comrades engaged in silent battle, knowing that if he moved out of line, Pick's concentration would break and they would be done for. As soon as Pick found their stalker, three more made their presence known by drawing pistols. Zack grabbed the nearest one and tossed him high into the air, then kicked him into a wall as he came down.

Dom delivered a jaw-breaking punch to another one. He then grabbed the man's wrist and broke it, causing him to drop the pistol with a gasp of pain. His face calm and collected, Dom smashed the man's head over a tin trashcan and unceremoniously dumped him inside.

The third attacker was a woman, and Kit had somehow wheedled her way through the crowd to reach the woman without being noticed. A punch, kick, and two snaps away, the attacker lay unconscious on the ground.

"Gather them up. We'll need them later," ordered Kit, ignoring the gawking spectators.

Steve tossed the woman over his shoulder, mumbling crossly to himself, "The things I do…"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thirty minutes later, all the captives were bound to a chair and gagged in a dark hotel room. To add to the mood, Mac had fashioned three flashlights to the ceiling so that the only light was on the prisoners. Beside the old man and woman, they were dazed and confused, but conscious and unable to commit suicide as Faulkner had.

Alec stood in the outer branch of the light, an eerie shine cast over him so that only his mouth was illuminated, though he knew his eyes gleamed green like a cat's in the dim light. It took a certain angle and amount of light to do it, but X's eyes did glow like anomalies'.

"This is one of those times where you need to be very clear about what you say," he informed them, his voice deep and authorative. "I'm going to ask you a few questions. If you don't answer me promptly, each of you, then one of your fingers will be broken. Once we get through all ten fingers, we'll start on your toes. After that, we might have to get creative. What're you feeling, Zack?"

Zack's face appeared from the shadows, his body a huge, ominous shadow. "First, we take out all your teeth. Then, we gauge out your eyeballs. Left, then right. If you still refuse to answer us, it'll be your larynx."

"You forgot our ears," sneered the young woman from the train station. "What, you going to clip them so we look like animals? Like you, mutant?"

The large X5's face curled into a feral grin. "Oh, I think you've proved how much of an animal you are. Believe me." He looked at Alec. "Tell them about the ears."

Alec felt his lips pulling upwards into a smile much like Zack's. His veins were swimming with testosterone and unrestrained animal instincts. A deadly tone came over his voice, low and smooth, as he explained, "Your ears we'll leave so that every time a child sees you on the street and cries in fear… every time a woman weeps at the sight of you… you'll hear them. You'll hear them say, 'Dear God, what is that thing', and it'll echo in your ears. That's why we'll leave your ears, to let you wallow in freakish existence forever." He leaned close to one of them. "And maybe you'll get a little taste of what we go through."

Visibly shaken, the prisoners gulped.

"I think you're bluffing," hissed one of them, the tall man that Pick had first attacked.

"Do you really want to find out?" asked Zack, cracking his knuckles. He pulled a knife from his boot and held it out, letting the light reflect off of it and into their faces. "I sharpen this thing after every use. It's quite sharp." He nicked his own finger without a flinch, shoving his hand into their faces. "Want a taste?"

"That's enough!" shouted the old man. "Stop it!"

Alec whirled on him. "Are you really as old as you seem?"

The elderly man went tight-lipped.

"Two… one… Ding, time's up. Survey says, middle one first." Before the man could react, Zack grabbed his finger and broke it in the middle. "Talk."

"No! No! I have a mask on!" cried the man. "She's in disguise too!"

With a triumphant smile, Alec grabbed the man's beard and promptly pulled his face off to reveal a young man in his twenties. The "old woman" yielded similar results.

"This is fucking priceless," muttered Zack as Alec disgustedly tossed the masks to their feet.

Dom joined the party now, standing directly across from Zack so that they were almost a mirror image. He solemnly nodded to the two, crossing his arms over his chest. "Let's get this over with."

Alec nodded. "Who are you working for?"

"NSA," said the "old man" and "old woman".

"The Snake Goddess," whispered the woman from the train station. "Them three, too."

Zack laughed cruelly, but didn't make a comment.

"Mhmm…" Alec began to pace. "You two. Where's Reynolds?"

"On vacation in Africa."

"Specifically."

"I don't know. Central Africa. A rainforest trek, he said."

"Does he go there often?"

"Yes. He takes a trip to the rainforest every few months. Says it calms him down after the pressures of the job."

Alec and Zack exchanged knowing glances. "Ever noticed any strange behavior from him?"

The "old man" twitched. "He has a scar on his arm. It's shaped like Caduceus."

"That, we knew," replied Alec, still pacing. "The Snake Goddess that they just mentioned. You know anything about it?"

"We once got a tip that some three thousand-year-old cult was stirring up shit, but Reynolds told us it was bogus," shrugged the "old woman". "We weren't allowed to follow the lead, but someone did. She disappeared. I don't recall her name."

"Does Reynolds have any weak points?" continued Alec, memorizing every word that was said.

"No wife, no kids. Well, he does have a son, but he's full grown and lives off in Alaska or thereabouts. They don't talk much. The only thing I've seen Reynolds attached to is his trips to Africa."

"Mhmm…" Alec nodded at them as he passed. "You're doing the right thing, believe me. Now, about that three thousand-year-old cult… these lovely people here are a part of it, and their testimony is going to be gold." He turned his attention to the other four prisoners. "Where's Sandeman?"

Taken aback by this abrupt question, they didn't answer immediately. When Zack moved forward to break their fingers, however, one of them blurted, "Paris… He's here in Paris." He received glares from his three companions in response.

"Are you Familiars?"

"No, but we serve them. They are our only hope. I will die before betraying them," hissed the woman. "You transgenics are nothing more than synthetic scum. Sandeman was blasphemous in his belief that producing a Familiar line through science was possible. You're pathetic."

"Hey, I'm not the one in cuffs and chains lady," snapped Alec. "You." He pointed to the one that answered his question first. "Where, specifically, can I find Sandeman?"

"Downtown. We were supposed to be watching him and were in the area when the alert went up that transgenics were coming. They called us to the area and another team is moving in to guard him."

Alec rubbed his chin. "How long 'til they get to him?"

"A few hours or so."

"Will you shut up?!" barked the woman. "We're not supposed to tell them anything!"

Zack smiled as he broke all four fingers on her right hand. "Shush up, lady."

She seethed in pain, but made no further attempts at rebellion. Her tall companion was silent.

"Give me the address," ordered Alec.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Five minutes later, Max, Alec, Pick, and Eddie were in a taxi on their way to find the truth. The universe was finally cooperating with them, and they received no obstacles in their ride besides the bumps and jostling of the Paris tour bus. They got off at their stop and glanced around, spotting the house they needed, it's number – 452. With thumping hearts and tight throats, they ascended the steps to the front stoop. Alec's hand was poised to knock when the door opened and a maid greeted them.

"You must be 494. Please, come in," she said sweetly.

They followed her into the entryway. The house smelled of dust, rotted wood, and fresh bread. Without another word, the maid led them up a flight of steps to the second floor, down a hall, and to the last door. Alec was the first to reach for the door handle.

Upon entering, they found antique furniture scattered everywhere. Papers were strewn over the folder, scribbled with millions of equations and figures and theories and hypotheses. An old desk sat in the back of the room, with a tall-backed leather chair facing away from them. Slowly, the chair turned.

"Sandeman?"

TBC…


	5. The Last Song

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this story that appear in the hit syndicated TV show, Dark Angel, owned and created by James Cameron. I do, however, own any and all original characters that appear in this work of fan fiction.

Rating: **PG –13**

Summary: I have no idea… uh… Sandeman! 'Nuff said.

**Resident** **Evil**

By

Brin

"The public is wonderfully tolerant. It forgives everything except genius." – Oscar Wilde (1854 - 1900)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Chapter 5**: The Last Song

"Sandeman?"

Before them sat an Einstein-esque man, with wild white hair and a dark, bushy mustache. His face was wrinkled and weathered, though his eyes sparkled with youthful vigor. He wore an all-white suit like Mark Twain, tan hands gripping the arms of his worn leather chair.

"Ah, 452. I've been expecting you. Please, sit down," he greeted them, extending a hand in the direction of the four chairs in front of him. "I'm pleased to see you've brought 901 and 301 with you, 494 and 452. The whole family's turned out."

Max narrowed her eyes at him, but took a seat. "I go by Max now."

"Of course, of course! Max, Alec, Pick, and Eddie, am I right?" asked Sandeman, standing. He was only about 5' 9" and walked with a definite limp, leaning heavily on the cane in his right hand as he moved to a small compartment near his desk. "Scotch? Except for Max, of course."

"No thank you," said Alec.

"I'll have one," announced Pick.

"Me too," added Eddie.

Sandeman laughed heartily as he poured two glasses. "A little underage for it, aren't you?" he mused even as he handed the teens their drinks. "No matter. In my time a little juvenile drinking was thought good for a person."

"How do you know so much about us?" asked Max, leaning forward in her seat. "We've been looking for you for the past two years."

"Well, that story requires a cup of Scotch for myself," replied Sandeman. He took a seat and smelled his drink before placing it on the desk and beginning his story:

"As a child, I was walking home from school one day when I happened upon an abandoned wolf pup. The poor thing was emaciated, and one of its paws was shriveled and useless. It was obvious to me that the pup had been born that way, but I couldn't for the life of me figure out what it was doing so far from the safety of the forest. It cried out to me and crawled forward, begging for a scrap of meat, or a kind touch at the least. Being the curious child that I was, I placed the pup into my rucksack and carried it home with me. My father took one look at the thing and told me to throw it back outside. I asked him why. He said to me, 'It's polluting the livelihood of the rest of its species. The wolves knew what they were doing when they abandoned it. Kill it.' That was before my initiation ceremony… before I was introduced to the ways of the Snake Cult.

"Years later, after I had accepted how the Cult works and thinks, I entered college and earned a PhD in genetics. Using my knowledge of genetics from school and from the Cult, I performed small miracles at first. I introduced a gene in mice that made them immune to certain diseases and illnesses, including radiation poisoning. My superiors told me that I had a grand future ahead of me – that I was Nobel Prize material.

"Then, the Pulse occurred. My research was thrown to a grounding halt. For a while, I gave up all sciences and searched for a more normal life, but the government approached me with a proposition to work for them. I agreed, and they gave me all the assets needed to continue my genetics research. After a few years of meddling in recombinant DNA, a man came to me with instructions that I should take what I knew and make a new life form… melded from both animals and humans… they would call it a 'transgenic.'

"So I set work on the perfect life form. The first specimens were… unstable. They were missing body parts or vital organs, most stillborn. Around this time I had gotten married to my wife, bless her soul. We had a son that was stillborn by no intervention by me. Research in Manticore was continuing at a steady rate when my second son, CJ, was born. He was so perfect, but I was pained… because I knew I was supposed to kill him. I was supposed to kill him in the night, make it look like SIDS or some other freak accident… but I didn't. I told the Committee that I refused to kill him, and they came after him. I protected him and denounced the Conclave, saying that I would create my own genetically superior life forms. I would develop an entire species with immunity to the Coming. And thus, I saved CJ from an early death and separated myself from association with the Conclave.

"I threw myself into my work, studying figures and facts night and day and through holidays. I was even working when Ames was born, rest his soul. A few weeks after Ames, Joshua was born. The first successful model of recombinant animal and dog DNA. Many animals had failed before him, including a cat attempt. We waited a few years before giving him immunity tests, and he passed, though he became seriously ill. Sicker than most surviving Familiars, and for a day or two I thought he wasn't going to make it… but he pulled through. It was an amazing moment.

"Thus, based mostly on his genetic structure, we developed several more models of dog _anomalies_ as you now call them." He shook his head. "Isaac was the second, and he held much more capacity to learn as a human. There were seven original transgenics – ones without a purpose except science. Then, the military approached me with an idea. Not just the perfect life form… but the perfect soldier. At first, I turned them away without a thought… but then… I began to think… what if I could prove to the Familiars that there is a better way? What if I could prove that it was possible to develop beings of our physical prowess without having to kill the first two children? A species that was not only immune, but physically the same as a Familiar?

"And, from then on, it's all history. It took ten more years of research to make a normal looking transgenic. The first Xs, the X1s – they passed for human, though there were definite animal characteristics in them. Since we had experienced no other successful animal combinations, they were based off. Their physical ability was slightly higher than that of a normal human's, but not near as high as our targeted level.

"When it came time to develop the X2s, we focused mostly on giving them more strength. Thus, when they were born, their minds were… unstable. It was no surprise when they finally snapped, killing each other in a bloody massacre in their barracks. We kept four of them for research on how to balance the chemicals in later models' heads.

"The X3s… well, they were like the X1s; very animalistic in appearance, but we managed to up their physical capabilities to about twice that of a human, maybe one half of a Familiar. Unfortunately, they ended up being very stupid, though stable, and we couldn't use them for anything but menial tasks.

"Regarding the other three models, the X4s were very successful. With the strength of a weak Familiar and the intelligence of someone who could easily get into a university like Harvard or Stanford, they were our pride and joy. By now, we had managed to get most of the animal features out of their faces. The only problem, we soon learned, was the distinct smell that dogs seemed to notice on them. In airports, the bomb dogs would go crazy if they came within a hundred yards of an X4, and a gossamer could smell them a mile off.

"And then… you, Max, Alec. The X5s. The first cat/human model to be produced. The last prototypes that I put a hand in creating." There was a proud twinkle in Sandeman's eye as he spoke, "Something clicked when we made you. I don't know what it was, but you are _perfect_. As strong as a Familiar, clinically genius, strategic masterminds, almost perfectly immune to the Coming. From your genetics sprung the PsyOps, SpecOps, and Black Ops."

Alec let out a breath. Black Ops. He had heard about them. Specially designed for use by the specific operations of the government, they were less recombinant DNA than they were humans perfected. With no animal DNA in their genetic structure, they didn't suffer from seizures or heat, but weren't near as strong as the X series. And where their X series cousins were all disarmingly beautiful and elegant, many Black Ops had been designed as unthreatening, easily forgotten, and sometimes ugly people; an exterior that hid the perfect espionage machine underneath.

"So what happened to you after the X5s?" asked Max bitterly. "What, you got bored and decided to up and leave?"

Sandeman gave her a pained look. "After the success of the X5s, I took a model to the Conclave and they didn't even give the child a second glance. They turned me away and sent an assassin after me; apparently my blasphemy had gotten to the point where it was punishable by death. The only way I was going to prove my worthiness to them was if I performed some great deed in their favor. I… disposed of the assassin, and many to follow. After some time of evading them and living in paranoia, I approached the Conclave and agreed to leave Manticore, if only they would leave my family and me alone. Ames was shamed by this, so he ran away from home to be raised by another Familiar family.

"The X6s were developed without my supervision, and many, like Eddie here, were reverted back to pre-X1 forms. I'm terribly sorry about that, my dear, but you see, my replacement was ill-equipped for the job and tried too many drastic changes in the genetic structure of the X6s," he said, leaning forward and smiling at the anomaly kindly. "But it seems that things have worked out."

There was a long silence in which the transgenics didn't know what to say or think. Here was their creator – here in flesh and blood – and all he could tell them was his life story. They wanted to know so much more.

"So," Alec leaned forward in his seat, "tell us about the Coming."

Sandeman paled a bit, downing the rest of his Scotch in one gulp. He rubbed the bridge of his nose nervously as he answered, "You can't stop it."

"Like Hell we can't," snapped Max.

"What I mean is… you can't stop it once it's _begun_. You can, however, prevent them from putting it into motion. I assume that you've already thoroughly interrogated the agents of a man named Ted Reynolds." He reached into his desk and pulled out a manila folder. "Head of the NSA, blatant anti-transgenic supporter, and field lieutenant for the Conclave."

"Field lieutenant?" queried Alec, accepting the folder as Sandeman handed it over the desk.

"Yes. He's in charge of making sure that any imminent threats to the Coming are eliminated. Hence, transgenics," explained Sandeman. "He assumed the command once Ames was… _removed_ from the post." He paused, eyes trailing over to Max.

Max pursed her lips, but didn't apologize for killing Ames White. Damn him to hell for all she cared.

"Ah, Max, always a stubborn one," Sandeman said in the tone of a proud parent. "Have the runes been bothering you much?"

"Not lately," she replied quietly. "I have pictures. Can you read all of them?"

"I already know what it says." Sandeman rubbed his nose again. "Have you been able to decipher it yet? I've had people watching you, but I was never able to find out if you translated the runes."

"Watching us?" bit out Alec. He rose angrily. "You spying on us?"

"Distantly, yes. That's how I know so much about you. I had to make sure that my special One was alright," replied the old man coolly. "Now, sit down my boy, and I'll tell you the whole prophecy."

Alec lowered himself back into the seat, but could still feel the anger boiling in his veins. Anger for not knowing that he was being watched, and anger for the fact that someone had enough guts to do so. He relaxed somewhat when Max's slender fingers snaked into his callused hand and squeezed lightly.

Sandeman stood and walked to the window at the back of the room, staring out at the street below with a faraway look in his eyes. His voice was low and sad as he spoke the words in direct translation - words that Max had waited so many months to hear:

"_When the shroud of death covers the face of the earth_, _the One whose power is hidden will deliver the helpless_. _Though it may be hard to see, it will be the power of two and One to bring down the great evil plaguing Earth. These two souls will be intertwined with the One by life, by law, and by love. Undividable._

_The catalyst to set the Downfall into motion will be very near to the One_. _A doe will be trapped in a wolf_'_s den while the One is distracted by a great happiness and it will be too late for the One to save her from certain devastation._

_Thus_, _on the third day of the cosmic alignment, a great evil will be unleashed upon the world. The strongest will fall, and the Snake Goddess will rule all… but a word of caution to this tale… should the One fight, evil will fail."_

Sandeman stopped and took a deep breath. He suddenly seemed very pale and shrunken. "Each verse came from a different prophet, but have been combined into one. The prophets are loosely referred to as The Fates by the Conclave." Eyes sad and tired, he looked to Max. "You're the only hope the world has. You, your husband, and your baby."

Max's throat was tight with fear. "But what if we can't? What if, after three thousand years, the prophecy has changed?"

"If you don't find a way to stop the Coming, no one will." There was an intense moment of silence, then the weariness and age disappeared from Sandeman's eyes and he was himself again. "Now, I have printed up schematics of the Temple's basic structure and security detail."

"The Temple?" asked Alec.

Sandeman paused. "Oh yes, I'm getting ahead of myself here. You've no doubt found out that Reynolds makes routine trips to Central Africa—"

"Wait, why do you keep saying it like that? Like you knew all along that we were going to question the captives?" queried Eddie suspiciously.

The old man laughed heartily as he explained, "My dear, I _made_ your adoptive parents. If there's one thing I know better than anything else, it's my own work." A pause. "Now, Reynolds makes trips down to Central Africa so that he can go to the Temple, which is, in a nutshell, the Familiar base of operations. By all rights, I'm dead for saying this stuff aloud, but I want to help you. I have a map that pinpoints the location for you, but I can't tell you how easy or hard accessing it will be because, quite frankly, they change it often. Inside the Temple is every experiment the Familiars have ever taken part in… including some of mine."

"Why do you say it like that?" Max looked worried.

"Because what's down there is dirty and dark and dangerous. They've developed horrendous diseases besides the Coming – some of which transgenics are not immune to. They've created and bred creatures from another time. Down there, it's like Camelot meets _Resident Evil_ meets _Aliens_."

Pick looked mildly amused at Sandeman's knowledge of Pre-Pulse movies, the corners of his mouth twitching in a tiny smile.

"So you're saying that's where they cook up all their dirty little secrets?" asked Max uncertainly.

"Yes." Sandeman looked at Eddie. "That's also where they're keeping your friend, Diana, and the other athletes."

"The part of the prophecy… the part that said it'll be too late to save 'the doe'… can we change that?" queried Eddie softly.

"I'm not sure," answered Sandeman with a shrug. "You can try."

"Okay, okay, okay, so let's recap here," said Alec, standing and waving his arms around a bit. "You created every transgenic up until X6, correct?" He waited for Sandeman's affirmation before continuing, "The prophecy says that Max will stop the Coming, right? Right. You have total access to the Familiar headquarters, and you're willing to give us everything to know?" Sandeman nodded. "So… why all this hiding from _us_? Why didn't you contact us in the two years that Max has been looking for you? You hid from us."

Sandeman sighed. "It was a bad decision, but it was for your safety."

Alec scoffed, but didn't press the subject further. "Tell us everything you know. I want records of Manticore, Familiar profiles, the works."

"You mean this, my boy?" Sandeman held up a disk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Optical disk, no shit," exclaimed Sam as she shoved it into Kit's laptop. The new, top-of-the-line Optical disks were able to hold as much information as a thousand CDs, all in the space of a half-dollar coin. The X5's finger's raced over the keys as the laptop struggled to keep operating with all that data flowing into it. After a few minutes of loading, the file was finished. Sam scrolled through it, eyes mechanically scanning and memorizing every character. "This is amazing. It would take months to understand it all."

"Just get to the part where it talks about the Temple," urged Alec.

"Oooh, Temple with a capital 't', I bet," joked Sam wryly. She ran a quick search and pulled up all the information on the Temple. "Wow. One and a half miles underground, built against intruders and the spreading of disease. This is like _Resident Evil_ right here, man. Raccoon City, here we come!"

"Give me a basic rundown of it."

Sam sighed, the puff of air rustling her hair, and skimmed the data casually. "Its entrance is vague. There's really no information about it. Underneath, it's five stories deep. Each floor accessible only through an elevator and two emergency stairways on either side. The bottom story is where they keep the mega computer system that runs the place. Apparently, it's an A.I. named Father, who can be ordered around by voice command and is instructed to self-destruct if anything goes really wrong."

"So even if we get inside, the place might blow with us down there?" asked Alec, discouraged.

"Well, the self-destruction mechanism only erases and shuts down Father, which means none of the doors will open to let you out. There _is_ a manual override that will turn him back on… but we don't have it here." She stopped browsing and squinted hard at the screen. "Wait."

"What is it?"

Sam licked her lips anxiously. "It says here that Father also has programming which allows him to operate on his own. That is, if he feels that he can do something about a situation without the self-destruction sequence, he'll do it."

Alec began pacing, weighing up the facts in his head. "Automated security guns under Father's control?"

"Yep."

"A constant view of the entire facility?"

"Yep."

"The ability to alert the whole goddamn place if there are intruders?"

"Yep."

"Well, looks like we'll just have to take Father offline," announced Alec decisively.

"Hell yeah!" shouted Sam, pumping her arm in the air. "Just let me decode him. You go talk to Sandeman some more. Make sure there's not something he isn't telling us."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"This is a marvelous piece of machinery," commented Sandeman as he studied Jondy's holographic imager. "I believe the base design was developed by I-Corporation, correct?"

"Yeah," replied the transgenic distractedly. "Bought it off the black market for a pretty penny."

Sandeman continued walking around the hotel room, studying the various weapons that Kit had brought and eyeing the prisoners thoughtfully. "You there," he said to one of the Familiar operatives. "Aren't you the young woman who lived to houses down? I might've known! Always walking your dog, dating my milkman or paperboy. A sly fox you are."

The young woman simply glared at him. "You aren't worthy to be a Familiar."

"Well unless you can somehow change my DNA as I stand here, it seems I am worthy enough," replied Sandeman callously. He straightened his suit jacket and glanced over at Zack, who was silently attaching a M203 4 0mm grenade launcher to a M16A2 5.56 mm rifle. "Can you use that?"

Zack shot him a brooding glance. "Of course. We were trained to use these things as soon as we could hold them. Shouldn't you know that already?"

"Ah," responded Sandeman with a touch of guilt. "I see." He walked over to the X5 and peered over his shoulder as he set down that gun and picked up another.

"Do you mind?" snapped Zack, irritated with the old man.

"Not at all."

"Look, I know you're all-important and shit, but I've got things to do," barked the transgenic, whirling on Sandeman irately.

"You were always angry, Zack. Even as a baby. I see nothing has changed," commented Sandeman composedly. "_Always_ angry."

Zack glared at him, his fingers twitching as they grasped a grenade launcher. "I already know that. Lydecker told me once. What is it with you people repeating yourselves? What, you want me to be _happy_?" He slammed the empty launcher onto the table and held his arms out. "You wanna know why I can't be happy? Hm? I can't be happy because idiots like you are intent on making our lives hell! Who the fuck do you think you are, messing with our lives like this? How come you couldn't just mind your business and stop trying to play God?" Moving too quickly for the human eye to see clearly, he grabbed Sandeman by the front of his shirt and lifted him into the air.

Jondy hurried over and grasped a strong bicep, whispering gently, "Let it go, Zack." There was obviously more involved with Zack's outburst than met the eye, and she was afraid he would do something regrettable. "Come on, baby. Put him down. Zack? Zack, put him down."

The large X5 unceremoniously dropped Sandeman into a heap. He glared down at the old man, panting slightly from his rage. "Don't mess with me, old man. I'm not gonna be your pet science project anymore."

Shooting Sandeman an apologetic gaze, Jondy followed her husband as he stalked away, cautiously placing a small hand on his strong back.

"Are you alright?" asked Billy impassively.  He had witnessed the whole ordeal but made no move to intervene. He wasn't feeling particularly warm about the man, either, but decided Zack's wakeup call was thorough enough.

"Fine," wheezed Sandeman, rubbing his neck.

Billy nodded his response and went back to polishing his rifle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back in America, things were going from bad to worse. Riots began breaking out across the country. Nobody knew what was going on. The president declared a state of emergency. Transgenics were being detained by the federal government for questioning—each and every one of them… but none of them were going quietly.

Zane, being makeshift leader, rushed what transgenics he could find to a safe base beneath the sewers of Last Hope. From above, it appeared as if all the residents of Last Hope had just… disappeared. The transgenic safe area was filled to the brim with people—adults, children, and howling babes. The dull roar of noise made it nearly impossible for anyone to sleep and even harder to get their wits about them. It was the second siege at Last Hope.

Hunkered down with Ben clutching her legs, Brin surveyed the scene miserably. One step forward, two steps back. Syl, Krit, and Eve were to her right, and Zane was to her left. Zane was constantly leaving and coming back, his duties as leader being to make sure morale stayed up and nobody killed each other. Thus far, he was doing a pretty good job of it.

Syl jumped in surprise as Yuri suddenly appeared in front of her. "Hi, Yuri," she greeted with a gentle smile.

Yuri plopped down in front of the X5 with a bag of saltine crackers in her hand. After eating a few, she offered them to Syl.

"No thanks," replied the X5.

With a shrug, the X7 continued munching on the crackers. She didn't seem at all phased by the recent going-ons of the world, as if this was all normal; to be expected. Syl winced as the realized that for someone who had gone through so much so young… maybe it _was_ normal. She ruffled the X7's short blonde hair affectionately. "How you doing, squirt? Bored?"

Yuri nodded slowly, then signed, "When's Eddie coming home?"

Syl smiled gently as she answered, "Soon."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Across the pond, it was dinner time. The transgenics, their prisoners, and their creator sat down at the same round table to eat the pizza they ordered. For the most part, the transgenics ate in silence, Sandeman pushed his slice around the plate with a fork, and the captives just glared at the food they were not offered. They were a motley bunch, to say the least.

Half a pizza into the meal, Pick was longing for something to wash down his dinner with. He stood and announced, "I'm gonna go get a beer."

"Eh! Wait! You, no," Alec's voice stopped him. "No beer. You date my daughter, you better put a lid on it for another year."

Pick wasn't sure how to react to that. He bit his lip, then let out a breath, chuckled quietly, and nodded. "Alright. If that's the rules." Shaking his head, he disappeared into the kitchen.

Eddie raised an eyebrow. "Since when are you Daddy Dearest?"

"He agreed to no beer. The guy's a keeper," replied Alec with a wink.

The other X5s chuckled.

"Come to think of it… I'm thirsty too. Be right back," announced Eddie, jumping up and following her boyfriend.

"So what's the plan for tomorrow?" asked Billy. "I'm tired of sitting around."

"Tomorrow… we deploy into the field. At oh-ten-hundred-hours the basic missions tactics will be covered. That should give you enough beauty sleep to last at least two days, because we have no idea how long the intervals between rest will be once we get started. At noon, we catch a very private flight to Africa and by twelve-hundred-hours we should be in an area near the Temple. We'll make it up as we go from there," explained Alec coolly.

This seemed to suffice as an answer, and the transgenics continued eating. As Max finished off her fifth slice of pepperoni, she had the inexplicable urge to call this her last supper… Tomorrow, it was into the belly of the beast. No more talking, no more lying low. All their cards were going on the table. Shaking thoughts of death and destruction from her head, she rose from the table. "I'm thirsty. I'm gonna get a glass of water," she declared.

"Have fun," muttered Amy.

Max shook her head as she walked towards the kitchen. It struck her as strange that Eddie and Pick had been gone the whole time, but her mind was very distracted by her scratchy throat. She pushed the door open and heard a giggle, and that should've keyed her into something being off-kilter, but she was so preoccupied that she walked right into the kitchen before realizing just why the teens had been gone for so long. "Shit!" The X5 clapped a hand over her eyes, her face growing hot with embarrassment.

Eddie was sitting on the edge of the counter. Pick was leaning between her legs, his arms locked on either side of her hips. They had been making out when Max entered (but were now staring at her in shock)… and by flush of their cheeks and Eddie's hiked skirt, that wasn't all they were doing…

Hand still planted firmly over her eyes, Max turned and left in a hurry. She stomped back into the eating area and sat down with her face in her hands. Though she had the vague impression that people were staring at her, she paid them no notice in her embarrassment. Few things in the world could make a transgenic go completely speechless—and seeing your daughter and her boyfriend banging each other was one of them.

"You okay, Max?" asked Alec, patting her on the back. "Look at little flushed there."

Max muttered something under her breath and kept her hands over her face when Eddie and Pick stumbled into the room looking twice as embarrassed as her.

"What happened?" Billy looked between the three.

"Uhh… nothing," choked Pick, tugging at his shirt tensely.

"You two were having _sex_, weren't ya?" accused Amy, jumping from her chair and waggling a finger at the two. "Max walked in on you getting some, huh?"

The teenagers just stared at her guiltily while the others snickered at their predicament. There was just no way out of this one.

Amy indignantly sat back down, muttering, "Lucky."

Eddie groaned. They were never gonna live this down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That night was dedicated to rest and relaxation—among other things. They had rented out the entire floor as a safety precaution… so whoever sought to be alone pretty much got what they wanted. It was the last night, the night to remember forever. From here, all roads led to blaring danger signs and all possibilities of death. Dead end. Thanks for playing.

_If_ _I_ _died_ _tomorrow_

_Would_ _this_ _song live on forever_?__

_And here is my_

_Unopened_ _letter_ _to a_ _world_

_That_ _never_ _shall reply_

In her room, Amy rang up Seattle to see how Lynn was doing. She'd never been especially close to any of her "siblings", but their close brushes with death had given her an uncharacteristic need to know she was loved. Lynn was still unconscious, but an X5 named Syl had taken down the note Amy wanted her sister to read when she woke up. After the call, Amy sat down with Billy, Dom, and Sam. They didn't say much, but they all felt the newfound bond between them. This would be their first real mission since Manticore died, and the first one they ever did together—maybe their last. But at least they were together, and that was something that even the Familiars couldn't take away.

_Never_ _shall_ _reply_

_From_ _this_ _second story_ _window_

_I_ _can_ _hear_ _the church bells calling out my name_

This table is set for one 

_Even angels_ _would be_ _homesick_

_In this_ _forsaken_ _town_

At the other end of the hall resided Kit, Steve, and Mac. They had been cohorts in crime for the better part of five years. By pre-Pulse standards, that was an eternity, especially in their line of work. They sat around the room, each to his or her own activities. Steve was practicing his combinations in the mirror, his fists moving so fast that they seemed to blur. Mac peacefully read a book by the window, the only movement from him being to turn the page. Kit dozed in the bedroom.

_On_ _random_ _notes_ _of_ _parchment_

_I_'_m_ _scrawling my existence_

_Dressed_ _in_ _white_

_This_ _candle_ _radiates throughout the night_

_And it_'_s never burning out_

Never burning out 

Pick and Eddie lay together in their bed, silently enjoying the French late-night talk shows. Their hands were intertwined over Pick's bare chest. One of his arms was thrown across the bed, his bicep used as Eddie's pillow. Every so often (also known as every commercial break) they would tear their attention from the television to indulge themselves in heated kisses. Max's walking in on them earlier had sort of killed the mood, but right now they were content to just cuddle. They had survived through death before; they would do it again.

_From_ _this_ _second story window_

_I can hear the children down on main street_

_They_'_re singing their songs tonight_

_In the shadows I will listen to their every movement_

_Mr_. _Higginson am I not good enough for the world_?

_Am I destined only to die_

_The same way that I lived_,

_It's seclusion_?

Alec knelt in front of his Max, one hand resting on her lower stomach and the other stroking the small of her back. He didn't like that his pregnant wife was going into battle, but Max would never stay behind, no matter what he did to stop her. The future of the human race was on the line here, and one person could stop it—one person bore the burden of saving humanity—and that was Max. He sighed and rested his head against her hardened stomach. "I love you, Max," he whispered into the cloth of her t-shirt.

_But_ _high_ _up_ _on_ _this mountain_

_I can almost see your lonely window sill_

_They_'_ll carry you off tonight_

_There_'_s a ghost_ _in your old bedroom_

_And a candle burning bright_

_If I die tomorrow_

_Will this song_ _live on_ _forever_?

Meanwhile, far away in Africa, Diana pondered the a sharp piece of metal jutting from the wall of her cell, discovered by her wandering, blind fingers. Pushing her handcuffs farther down her bruised arms, she noiselessly slid a wrist across the serrated edge. Blood dripped onto the ground.

TBC…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Wow. _I _didn't even see that end part coming. =/


	6. Sleeping Awake

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this story that appear in the hit syndicated TV show, Dark Angel, owned and created by James Cameron. I do, however, own any and all original characters that appear in this work of fan fiction.

Rating: PG –13

Summary: To quote Timon from the Lion King… "It starts.'

A/N: Forgive my Matrix references… but I love those movies!!

Resident Evil 

By

Brin

"As we look deeply within, we understand our perfect balance. There is no fear of the cycle of birth, life and death. For when you stand in the present moment, you are timeless." – Rodney Yee

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Chapter Six**: Sleeping Awake

CENTRAL AFRICA

0500 HOURS

THE TEMPLE

"Blood pressure dropping…"

She was floating. Ah, she was in a pool of water. Yes, a peaceful pool of warm water, though it was suspiciously thick. She tried to raise her arms to create ripples, but her arms wouldn't move. Neither would her legs. Oh well. She was content to just lay here, so _warm_. The water was so warm and she was so sleepy. So sleepy…

"Doctor, she's slipping into a coma…"

But then, all of a sudden, she was cold. Freezing, biting cold. Still sleepy, though. The chill crept up her spine and down her arms. Her legs went numb… and then above her appeared a light. Oh, it was so bright. So bright and welcoming. She tried to reach it, but she was so tired. So very tired. The light got brighter and brighter. It was coming towards her. She took a deep breath. What was it they said about the light? Follow it? Oh, but she was so cold…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

CENTRAL AFRICA

0634 HOURS

THE TEMPLE

"What the hell happened? Can I not leave you alone for a second?!" yelled Reynolds as he stormed down the hall.

"She did it so quickly, and facing away from the camera. We weren't sure of what she was doing until she collapsed," explained the guard uneasily. "She's still alive, sir."

"That doesn't null the fact that you almost let her commit suicide!" snapped the elder Familiar irritably. He skidded to a halt in front of the window of an infirmary room. Inside lay that damn boxer woman, her wrists cut up like a damn holiday roast. Her wrists and angles were shackled to the bed with leather and plastic manacles. The patient's face, usually bronzed to perfection, was pale as the white sheets of her bed. "She's in a comatose state!"

The guard winced, but offered no defense on his part.

Reynolds made a noise akin to a growl and raised a fist, the veins on his head bulging in frustration. "You'd better consider yourself lucky that they changed the law about punishment for failure such as this. Otherwise I could do as I pleased with you, including string you up by your eyeballs until they were pulled from their sockets!" he hissed, spitting all over the guard's face. "Get back to your post!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

PARIS, FRANCE

1000 HOURS

L'hôtel de L'extrémité

Alec stood before his troops, armed and ready. He wore a black shirt and pants with a long, black leather trenchcoat over that. His mirrored sunglasses reflected the faces across the room from him—faces that he knew and loved, hated and loathed, or barely knew. Behind the lenses, his own hazel eyes were filled with excitement unlike anything he had ever felt in all his twenty-four years. His body was humming with energy, adrenaline rushing through his veins. He spoke:

"Okay, I know you all are just dying to hear a long-winded speech from your favorite transgenic, so I'll make this sweet and simple—maybe." A pause. "Today, we no longer exist as peoples of this world. Today… we become their savior." He waved his hand toward the window. "Those people down there… People bustling to work or home from the graveyard shift, living their lives without worry of an Apocalypse or Genetic Cleansing. Those people don't care about us. They don't know who we are or where we come from. It's doubtful that they ever will… but today we take a step toward saving them all. Why? Because every one of those fuckers out there… we don't know _them_ either. For all we know, they could be fighting their own underground war. Why? Because one day I want to look at my wife and not think about what would happened if she was killed. Because one day I want to hold my children and grandchildren and my great-grandchildren… and I'm willing to bet money that the lot of you do, too."

Pick and Eddie exchanged glances and subtly joined hands, small smiles playing over their faces.

Alec continued, "So today… we stop this. All bullshit that started with him—" He pointed to Sandeman "—stops with us. Right here, right now, because we say it does. No more waiting for the Fammies to hunt us down. We're turning the tables—we're going after them. We're all hunters, each and every one of us—transgenic or not—and I don't know about you, but I'm tired of being hunted." He paused long enough to look them each in the eye. "So it starts. You don't have to take this step. You don't have to go farther than you want… but I'm not going to stop until I see this Coming stopped… for good. We leave Sandeman to do what he will with the hostages. And now… _our_ part of the story begins."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

LIBYA

1200 HOURS

AIR DEFENSE SYSTEMS, INC.

"Sir, we have an incoming aircraft heading south at approximately two-hundred miles per hour."

Lieutenant Minyar al-Qadhafi looked up from his newspaper. "Any markings?"

"No, sir. We're trying to establish radio contact now."

Minyar stood and moved into place beside the lower soldier. This was new. Planes flying through Libya were rarely headed south, what with the going-ons down in Central Africa. He watched the tiny green blip on the screen as his soldier continued his attempt to make contact.

"Unidentified craft 601, heading southbound at approximately two-hundred miles per hour, please state your authorization code. This is Libyan Air Defense Systems requesting your authorization code. This is private airspace," the soldier said. He waited a minute, repeated the speech, then looked up at the lieutenant questioningly. "Sir?"

"Give them three minutes, then shoot it down. General's orders," replied Minyar with a grim face.

"Yes, sir," replied the soldier. He pressed a red button on his control panel marked 'ARMED'. Turning his attention back to the radar, he noticed something… odd, to say the least. He called, "Lieutenant."

Minyar, who had moved to another monitor, returned. "What is it?"

"They've… gone."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

CHAD AIRSPACE

1323 HOURS

THE PALLATON

"Let's see them catch us now," mumbled Kit as she gripped the steering stick of her own private jet, the Pallaton. Passing over Europe, a habitual war zone nowadays, had required a certain level of conspicuousness to avoid being mistaken as a sneaky war plane. But here in Africa, relatively peaceful since the downfall of the American Empire and the hostile, totalitarian takeover of most countries, governments rarely watched for—or cared about—planes not spotted on the simplest of radars. "ETA: twenty minutes."

In the passenger hold, Sam, Jondy, and Max were playing a game of bullshit. Alec, Billy, Dom, and Zack were brooding, Amy was sleeping, Eddie and Pick were holding hands, and the mysterious Brit, Steve, was trying hard not to be airsick.

"Are you okay?"

Steve looked up at the cattish girl sitting directly across from him. "Positively bees knees," he replied slowly. 

Eddie raised her eyebrows. "Bees knees?"

"Fabulous," reiterated the blonde Brit. He turned several shades of green as the plane hit a small patch of turbulence. "The only time I enjoy flying is when I'm sloshed."

"This whole British slang thing needs to stop," insisted Eddie, grinning. "Why are you in this, anyway?"

"Part of the team, love! The team goes everywhere together. Even if that 'everywhere' includes some occult temple in the middle of bloody nowhere," answered the blonde man with a debonair grin. "'Sides, I have a little business to finish up with Miss Diana."

Eddie tightened her grip on Pick's hand. "You know Diana?"

Steve's grin widened. "She and I have a little history, I guess you could say. We really refer to it differently. She might say it was 'bouncing me off the walls whenever she pleased' and I say it was 'an extended relationship of banging.'"

"Which means…?"

"Bollocks. It was all bollocks! But we do have business to settle." A pause. "She's a bloomin' riot, isn't she? Always a tough bird! A right ace at boxing, no doubt. Could kick my arse from here to the North Pole and back. I hadn't thought she would be involved in somethin' like this. After that wanker boyfriend of hers, Adrian, she bloody well stayed out of trouble."

Talking seemed to be getting his mind off the flight and his sickness. Eddie pried: "So… you two ever get into anything deeper than banging each other?"

"Not outright, no. She won't admit it, at least. We were a smart match. We bloody fought like a couple married for fifty and a million years. She was always brassed off with me… but nothing like a good snogging to fix that, hey? You two look right comfy, so you'd understand. Say, you there…" He nodded to Pick. "How's your father?"

"Why do I feel like I'm being tricked into saying something I don't mean?" muttered the X6.

Steve laughed and leaned back in his chair. "Smart one you got there, love," he said to Eddie. "Keep him."

"So I've been told."

Meanwhile, a section behind them, Max, Jondy and Sam's game of bullshit was heating up. Alec and Zack were watching intently now. This game, though innocent to most, was a regular training mission for the X5s. Bluffing—now _that_ was an important skill. And, according to past events, the better you were at bluffing during deep cover, classified black ops missions, the longer you lived.

"Two three's," said Sam, slapping the cards on the table.

Jondy narrowed her eyes at Sam, reading the younger transgenic's body heat, pulse, and eye movement. This was a tough one. She pondered yelling BULLSHIT for a few more seconds before slipping her own card onto the table. "A four."

Max looked at her hand. She was holding a three, two sixes, and a king. Well wasn't _that_ damn unlucky. Pulling the six, she casually dropped it on the bulky stack and announced, "Five."

There was a brief silence before Sam slapped the heap of cards and yelled, "Bullshit!"

"Aw, shit," moaned Max, pulling the collection into her lap. "Now I'll never win."

"Damn skippy!" replied Sam with a laugh. She patted her twin on the back. "It's okay, big sis. I know you let me win."

"That's right." Max touched her cheek and feigned a tear trail. "Because I know how you always cry when you lose."

"You're lucky we're both pregnant, else I'd have to put the smackdown on yo' ass," warned Sam with narrowed eyes. She kept her face straight for about ten more seconds before breaking out into a fit of laughter.

Max smiled at her, happy that her twin was happy and wishing that she could join in the cheerfulness. She cast a sidelong glance at Alec, who grasped her fingers tightly, reassuringly. The young woman looked out the window and was surprised to see a never-ending mass of green. Thick fog shrouded most of the trees, but there was no mistaking this as what was left of the African rainforests. After the Pulse, there was a labor rebellion in the cutting-down-trees business. It had ended in a bloody mess of corporate executives and destruction of the rainforest had virtually stopped save a few private investors. Almost all new buildings around the world were made from steel and concrete.

Over the com, Kit's voice rang: "This is your captain speaking. I would like to ask all passengers to please buckle their seatbelts, place their chairs in the upright position, put away all folding trays, and settle in. The copilot and I are expecting a bit of a rough landing."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

RAINFOREST

1401 HOURS

OUTSIDE THE PALLATON

"'_A bit_ of a rough landing… my arse!" grumbled Steve as he stepped out of the smoking jet.

"So the landing strip was a tad too short… any other plane would've blown to smithereens," argued Kit, picking her way through the back of the plane. "My poor baby!" The landing hadn't been perfect; an unseen dip in the long-forsaken runway had caused the plane to take a nosedive into the ground. Luckily, the ground consisted of knee-high grass and shrubs. At least they hadn't hit any trees. The most damage was done to the plane, which would probably never fly again.

"I don't know whether to be mad or feel saved," commented Zack.

"Guys… where the fuck are we?" Everyone turned to look at Amy, who was standing at the edge of the runway with a duffel bag slung over her shoulder. "Is it just me, or does this seem really random?" she snapped.

"According to the map Sandeman gave us, it should be around six klicks south of our current location," said Alec, who was helping unload the plane. "Kit has reviewed the map. She'll take point." He practically tore off his leather coat and stuffed it into the duffel, now wearing just black jeans and a sleeveless shirt. A sheen of sweat could already be seen on his forehead.

"You heard the man," yelled Max. "Let's go."

The group fell into single file behind Kit, each of them stripping down as the humidity of the rainforest hit them. Kit shed her sweater and shirt, opting for the black sports bra and cotton pants look. They had little choice; once they got inside the Temple, all the excess clothes would be needed. So for now, it was all underwear and duffel bags galore.

Stepping past the landing strip and into the cover of the forest, the group found themselves moving through one of the few places left in the world in which technology had no grip. In post-Pulse America, those with the technology had the power. Anyone who boasted a state-of-the-art security system or the biggest computer network in the sector could get whatever they wanted, whenever the wanted.

Here, things went a little differently.

Max was drinking it all up. The grass was up to her knees, bugs flying into her face and buzzing around her ears, the humidity was off the charts… and she was enjoying every bit of it. Maybe it was her feline DNA, but she could hear and smell every creepy crawler within ten meters. Rainbow-colored birds burst into flight above their heads, cawing angrily and confusedly at the cat-humans below them. A few wide-eyed monkeys watched them closely from the safety of the treetops. Max felt an inexplicable urge to climb up those trees and sit there until this whole thing blew itself over… but no. Jondy was in front of her and Alec behind. She reached forward and touched her sister's shoulder.

"Max?" Jondy turned her head.

"What you say, when this is all over, we stay here awhile?"

Jondy laughed and slowed her pace so that they walked side by side. "Always the optimist, little sister," she replied, throwing an arm over Max's shoulder.

"And there's a reason I shouldn't be? What, you going all pessimism and cocaine on me, big sis?" Max leaned into Jondy's embrace.

"I was thinking more masochism and beer."

Behind the two, Alec and Zack laughed.

Several eventless minutes passed. Then, the foliage grew thicker and the animals more numerous. The tension was boiling.

Pick mumbled to Dom, "The shadows are moving."

"Ain't just shadows," replied the burly X5. He pulled his Uzi. "Alec?" he bellowed

"We've got company!"

"DOWN!"

The transgenics hit the dirt as shots exploded on either side of them. They lay still until the shots died down, then were on their feet and in hiding places to return fire within a heartbeat.

"How many?" yelled Sam, her voice almost totally drowned by the gunfire.

"I got four at the three o'clock!" answered Kit.

"Six at the nine o'clock!" added Dom.

"Shit! Nine at twelve o'clock!" cried Pick, ducking as the bark of a tree next to him burst into splinters.

After a few minutes of trading fire, the odds stood at SOLDIERS 15, TRANSGENICS 12. Another moment or two, the soldiers went down to 10. Losing ground, they halted their return fire.

"Hold!" ordered Max. She was crouched behind a rotting tree stump. "Where'd they go?"

"We've lost visual," called Alec.

Tortuous moments slid by. Then, a flurry of moment to their left. Three of the soldiers tag-teamed Jondy. The rest went after Eddie.

"What, you think just 'cause I'm a little girl, I can't kick you ass? Am I sensing a bit of discrimination here?" taunted Eddie. "Come here."

One of the soldiers rushed her from behind. She leapt into a backflip, letting the soldier harmlessly pass under her, then grabbed him by the neck with her tail. A quick twist later, he slumped to the ground. The remaining six came at her. She ducked a kick and grabbed the back of a neck. One got a punch in, and another kicked her in the back of the knees, but that was about all—because Pick was there in half a second, lifting them by the back of the neck and shattering their spinal column with the strength in his hands. Both transgenics hit the dirt and a torrent of bullets flew over their heads, killing the remaining soldiers.

"Hey, how you like that?" said Pick, sitting up. He gave Eddie a hi-five. She threw herself on top of him for a kiss.

Meanwhile, Jondy and Billy had done quick work of the other three. They helped Eddie and Pick to their feet.

"Let's keep moving, people. These were just drug dealers. An outside party. No Fammies here," yelled Alec, checking the bodies for Familiar tattoos. "Save the celebration for later."

"I really need a beer," muttered Steve as he stepped out from a grove of ferns with leaves sticking out of his hair.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

RAINFOREST

1500 HOURS

"We've only got half a klick to go now," announced Kit, still at point. They covered the remaining distance good time, coming to a stop in front of a large pool of murky rainforest water. Kit pulled a coin-sized holoscreen from her pocket and checked the schematics once again. "Well, according to Sandeman's model, which is from 2000 by the way, this pool is fifty meters deep. At the bottom there's a hole in the wall big enough to fit a two-man sub. After you go through there, the drop continues for an indefinite distance then raises for another undefined distance. Alls we know is that the first floor of the Temple is half a mile underground."

"I don't like it," announced Dom with a shake of his head.

"What's to like?" replied Kit, raising her eyes to him. She put away the viewer and glanced at the pool. "Look, this isn't gonna be easy. I trust you all brought your gas tanks… and these?" She pulled out a harpoon gun that was about the size of an Uzi.

"I was wondering what those were for," commented Steve.

Kit ignored him and went on, "I gave you these tanks and guns for this purpose. We went over the briefings of what we do once we get in, but this is going to take some improvising. The tanks will last thirty minutes. Not even you transgenics can hold your breath that long. We swim as fast as we can and we don't stop. Now put on your goggles and let's get to it."

"Water," muttered Eddie. "It _had_ to be water."

The transgenics fitted themselves with their gas tanks, changed into their wet suits, and tied all their bags together, along with a _big_ rock. The rock would do the dragging for them until they reached the point in which they had to swim upwards. Then, they would untie the rock and let the bags float their way to the surface. It was all planned out.

"Ten second intervals between each diver," instructed Alec as he adjusted his wetsuit and goggles. "Sam, you know what you're doing?"

She nodded. "Above ground liaison. Gotcha."

Alec gave her a thumbs-up. "Good luck." He attached his gas tank and dove in.

The water was pleasantly cool. Alec almost enjoyed swimming down, down… He could barely see a meter in front of him. Ten meters. His arms and legs pumped monotonously. Twenty meters. Surely he was setting some kind of Olympic record here. Thirty meters. He clicked on his underwater flashlight and nearly halted his swim as he saw a shadow move not five meters below him. Speeding up, the transgenic approached the foreign object. As he swam closer, he slowly realized what it was… but he didn't believe it. He abruptly stopped swimming, utterly incredulous at what his eyes were telling him.

It was _huge_.

Seven meters long from snout to tail, Alec was suddenly sure that the Loch Ness monster was real. And it had teeth. Sharp, sharp teeth. The transgenic swam up, up, and ran smack into Kit, who had also stopped swimming upon seeing the monster. They were soon joined by Zack, Dom, Billy, Max, Pick, Jondy, Eddie, Steve, Mac, and Amy, all in ten second intervals.

A unanimous thought struck them: _What the fuck?!_

This was definitely not in the brochure.

And then, it moved. The transgenics pulled their harpoon guns and took aim. Pok, pok, pok! Alec, Dom, and Zack fired. With a burst of bubbles, the harpoons jetted from the barrels, straight at the thing's bulked chest as it swam towards them at a furious pace. Two missed, but the third found connection. A cloud of blood suddenly colored the water, but the giant _thing_ just swam faster. The currents caused by its movements scattered the transgenics to opposite sides of the seemingly bottomless lake.

Max found herself pinned against the mossy wall, wincing as something sharp jabbed her in the back. Unseen by her, a puff of blood rose into the water.

The beast, smelling the blood, turned its attention from the others and rushed towards Max at a startling speed.

Now that it was closer, Max grew more and more afraid. She saw its massive jaws open, displaying huge, knife-like teeth with frightening detail. Just before those teeth crunched her into death, she pushed herself out of the way with strength only a transgenic could muster. The beast slammed into the wall full-force, causing boulders to dislodge from the wall above it.

Alec took a chance in this split second that the beast was busy with the wall. He pulled the second trigger of his gun, launching a grenade at the thing. It hit the beast in the back, exploding a good-sized hole in its thick hide… but not killing it. Instead, it turned around and came at Alec with a vengeance. Blood was coloring the water maroon, thick clouds of it billowing form the thing's back. Alec's next action barely registered in his own brain. He pulled the trigger twice more, just as the thing opened its jaws to swallow him…

It seemed the entire world rocked as the grenades exploded in the beast's throat, cutting away its head and killing it instantly. Rocks were falling harder and faster now. One of them caught Alec in the stomach, pushing him downward—rapidly. Seeing this, the other transgenics grabbed onto passing boulders and let themselves be dragged down, down…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

RAINFOREST

1530 HOURS

UNDERWATER TUNNEL

When they hit rock bottom, Zack, Pick, and Alec retrieved their bags from the ground. Above them, the first tunnel ended in a sharp plane that separated it from the second tunnel, which supposedly contained their freedom. They had used up twenty minutes of their allotted air. Their only hope now was that the second tunnel went straight up and didn't slope. So, arms and legs burning, they swam up and up while their air dwindled. Nine minutes left. Alec began to calculate how long he could swim and hold his breath. Eight minutes and still no sign of surface. Their ascent had to be incremented… the depth was slightly hazardous, but their specially-designed wetsuits made everything a lot easier.

Six minutes… five…

Max grew increasingly angry. This couldn't end here… not before they even got started. Had Sandeman set them up? Her back was throbbing where she had hit the wall. She narrowed her eyes at the dark blue water above her head, willing it to just end.

Three minutes left and, suddenly, the water broke above their heads. The transgenics surfaced one by one, ripping off their masks and gasping for fresh air.

"Shouldn't someone be complaining about having a near-death experience or two before we even infiltrate the goddamn place?" gasped Steve.

"I like this guy," replied Amy.

Pointedly ignoring the both of them, Alec swam to the wall and felt for a ledge. When he found it, he pulled himself onto it with a bit of difficulty because of all the bags on his back. Once settled, the transgenic pulled a new flashlight and turned it on.

"Nice."

The walls sparkled. They were deep blue in color, covered in pinhead flecks of reflective rock, and the beam from Alec's flashlight bounced around the wall, but couldn't possibly illuminate the massive cavern the transgenics found themselves in.

"You're kidding me," commented Max, wincing at the burning in her arms as she tread water. "I died and landed in a movie."

"Ain't dead yet," responded Zack as he opened one of the bags and pulled a string. 

Out sprung a yellow lifeboat complete with oars. The wearied transgenics and Ordinaries climbed aboard, abandoning their near-empty oxygen tanks. Alec pulled a comm device from another bag and attached it to his ear. "Mountaineer? You there?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

RAINFOREST

1539 HOURS

ABOVE WATER TUNNEL

"Mountaineer? You there?"

Breathing a sigh of relief, X5-453 drawled into her mic, "Sure am, Scout. Any problems?"

"A little. Nothing we couldn't handle."

"Roger that, Scout."

"Initiating phase two of operation. Deactivating comm link until completion of phase two. Deactivation begins in five… four… three… two…"


End file.
